To Touch The Sky
by LilyJadeth
Summary: After an accident, Shizuo gains the ability to see the red strings of fate only to find that his own is attached to a certain informant.
1. Chapter 1

**Bombarding you guys with prompted fics, wheeee~**

**So far this is the longest fic I've ever written, actually ^^;; about 44,000 words at the moment, and counting~**

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><p>In the evening gloom, it is easy to mistake an array of irreproachable shapes for something that it is not.<p>

Shizuo had thought he was past this. The last time he had put a group of shadows together to form — purely by accident — sinister faces like halloween masks was when he was a kid and still sleeping in the same room as his brother. On occasion he'd sit up with a yelp and stare at it in the dark until he realized it was only a pile of clothes on the desk chair, or a series of silhouettes produced by the faint glow of the adjoining kitchen's light. Kasuka would wake up to point out the happier shapes in the room until Shizuo's head met the pillow for good.

Suddenly he was standing, but could not remember the action between this and sitting at the roof's edge with a cigarette between his fingers. The city below him created a rush of air that made the building seem taller than life yet as unstable as a paperclip trying to balance upright atop a surface. Individual lights further down to earth gave off golds and blues and reds, millions of dazzling, crystalline points to mirror the collection of those above.

He remembered shouting.

The cigarette dropped to the verge of the roof.

He'd seen a pair of eyes, studying him, widening with alarm, coming just a little closer.

But they weren't real. They were there, and then gone. Nothing eerie, nothing cordial, but nevertheless entirely a nightmare, for to Shizuo it was clearly better to notice something bad that was there than not to notice something good that existed only behind his line of sight.

The sound of his shoe sole scraping against the corner of cement did not reach his ears as weightlessness consumed him and sank in the deadening sensation that spread through his chest like a cancer. As an intake of air stopped in his throat, Shizuo wondered faintly if it might be his last.

A flash of scarlet that slowed his plummet just enough.

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><p>"Shizuo!"<p>

He tapped the side of the blond's carmine-washed face, blood smudging across his fingertips as he pulled his hand away. He was careful to move the body so that his arms no longer twisted over one another — so grotesquely that a burn rising in his throat was swallowed down with difficulty. He called him again, and the faint flicker of a reaction was the only way he could tell that Shizuo was still hanging on to the thinnest threads of life.

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><p>A pair of eyes to greet Shizuo face to face, a hazy visage of someone he vaguely remembered. Vision clouded with a blur tinted a brilliant crimson, these eyes darkened to claret. They were not aligned correctly — one above the other, rather than side by side, but after a moment of contemplating the pressure in his arm it was apparent that he lay limply on his side. Glazed chestnut and gold fluttered closed. Sensations flooded back one at a time. Shouting again, a sound he recognized in an instant. There were several voices going on at once, all panicked and distressed. Breathing was swiftly proving to be an arduous task, chest falling and heart palpitating against an invisible weight. There was little pain in itself, but such an irony was the worst pain of all.<p>

His lungs throbbed and fought for air — dirty, rusty city air that made him choke and effected a dry wheeze along the trachea. As Shizuo tried to open his eyes again, the red faded away, and a clear image of Kadota's concern appeared before them. A call of his name was merely taken into calm regard as they slid closed again. With great care, tension against the numbness, a number of hands found his shoulders and legs, and the lightweight feeling returned once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Shizuo awoke to the steady beep of a heart monitor, but his lids were so heavy that he did not bother trying to lift them open. His breathing grew more even and bigger, but something wedged in his throat obstructed movement. He twitched a few of the fingers on his right hand, and a small twinge of pain snaked up to his shoulder. Body shuddering softly, caramel irises unveiled as his eyes met with the bland white ceiling that was somewhat recognizable. He blinked. A scan to the side, and a flicker of the television screen turned to a science fiction special.

"Celty…?" he whispered hoarsely into his oxygen mask, trying to turn his head a little. There was no answer, but Shizuo knew she was there, rushing to his aid and fiddling with the machine. Her headless form leaned over his side, black smoke rising and swirling — although Shizuo could not read her as well as Shinra, he easily noticed the worry as the shadowy cloud shivered from her neck.

She held up a few fingers. Shizuo's eyes flitted once to her soft pink pajamas before he answered.

"Four. What is that?"

Her neck tilted a little, and then she stood and lightly tapped his arm. Celty moved away quickly, and Shizuo was left to the television again. The show playing was almost comical, but Shizuo couldn't laugh without a piece of plastic jutting into his windpipe.

"Shizuo!" Shinra's sanguine voice almost made him jolt. The doctor's smile faded slightly when he reached the blond, sitting on his knees so that they could be face to face. His expression was rather haggard as if he hadn't had his morning coffee just yet. "How are you feeling?"

Shizuo blinked slowly. "What's going on?"

Shinra lifted the mask from his face, ceasing the flow of air for a moment, but after a few moments he grew accustomed to breathing on his own as the doctor explained that his lungs had been dangerously close to collapsing.

"You fell from the top of a building, idiot. I'm surprised you're still alive." His eyes sparkled with interest. "I still find your body fascinating, in case you've forgotten."

The corner of his mouth quirked up in an uneasy, hesitant smile, but Shizuo returned it. As he tried to sit up, his head started to spin. "I don't really remember anything…"

"Do you know what you might've been doing on the roof of a building?"

He shook his head gingerly. "No." Shizuo shifted his body and felt a dark fabric against his fingers. "Am I on your couch?"

"Yeah," Shinra laughed, standing to help Shizuo swing his legs over the side. "I never got around to setting up a room for long-term patients, but after last night I may come about."

Shinra fully unhooked the mask and placed it on top of the machine. He removed the oximeter from his finger and hooked it to another cord of the monitor. "Try not to lift anything heavy. You dislocated both arms in the fall. You were still asleep when we popped them back in, I swear you don't have nerve endings anymore."

Shizuo rolled his shoulders anyway, and Shinra winced in anticipation of them popping out again.

"I'm fine. What is that?"

He gestured with a small nod to Shinra's left hand. Shinra glanced down at it. "What's what?"

"That. On your little finger."

A thin red string rested around it, a faint glimmer glowing brilliantly against the doctor's skin like the line of a laser pointer. It was tied in a small bow while the other end trailed off somewhere.

"Shizuo, what are you talking about?"

"Shinra, there's _no_ way I'm just seeing that."

"Are you feeling alright?" Shinra began to pass a small flashlight over his eyes. "The impact could have produced hallucinations–"

"I'm not–" As he batted Shinra's hand away, Shizuo paused to look at his own. The same type of thread was also wrapped around his own little finger. "What the hell…?"

Celty appeared at Shinra's side and reached over to feel his forehead. Another red string on her finger dangled before his eyes. As she pulled it away, Shizuo followed it. Celty's string was attached to Shinra's. When either of them moved farther or closer, the string stretched as if there was an endless supply to extend. It hung to graze the floor.

"Shizuo, are you okay?"

"I'm…" He stood from the couch, steadying himself against it. "I'm going out. Fresh air."

Shinra almost stopped him before reminding himself that Shizuo had gone through much worse and still been perfectly fine the next day. "Okay. Be careful, Shizuo."

"Yeah," he called over his shoulder, stepping out into the morning sun. Shizuo passed his hand through the string, feeling it only faintly like a ghost of air. He grasped it, unsuccessfully for a few tries until finally it seemed to solidify in his fingers. As he slipped it off, the thread passed through his fingertips and glided back on to rest just above the knuckle.

His eyes fell down the string, then followed the trail as it weaved into the city before him. Vermillion flashes forced him to blink, but each thread remained attached to unaware citizens of Ikebukuro.

_Fate's friend is Curiosity._

_Curiosity allows us to try new things. Curiosity can bring us to our death, it can bring us to a new life, it can carry us to love and it can break our hearts. But we all need Curiosity now and again, for if Curiosity had not killed the cat, Fate would have stepped in to claim its life one way or another, pretty or ugly as it may be. Without Fate, where would we go? A soul that has passed the gates of death can never return to the world of the living who still have a destiny to see through. The dead no longer have a Fate and do not belong on Earth._

Shizuo took the scarlet thread into his hand again and stepped through the crowd.

_Then again, there_ are _the lucky few that make it._


	3. Chapter 3

For a moment, Shizuo thought he may have actually died. Maybe the other side was just a strange, disturbing replica of the real world.

Shizuo didn't think about death very often. He'd thought about accidentally killing someone. The topic would briefly cross his mind when he saw murder or a passing on the news. But, being the near-indestructible man he was, Shizuo couldn't imagine dying. Ordinary people died in accidents like getting hit by trucks - _done._ They died from assaults by gangs – most gangs wouldn't dare lay a finger on him if they'd heard of him. They died falling off tall buildings – well now. He could check that one off the list.

But he _had_ come dangerously close. And that's what scared him. How would he die, in the end of it all?

Everywhere he looked, everyone had a string tied to the little finger of their left hand. A few stood by the person that the other end was attached to. Others' strings trailed off somewhere far away. As he walked through Sunshine, he passed a trio of Raira students he faintly recognized, and their case was strange — the dark-haired boy and blond boy had their fingers tied together, but the girl with glasses they were with had a string that looked as if it had been attached to the middle of their thread.

They looked happy together.

A couple was heading straight for Shizuo, and as they approached they began to split off, walking around him. Their thread seemed to be aimed at his middle, and Shizuo stumbled back a few steps as they left him behind. The string passed through his body and came out smoothly from the other side. It sent a shiver up his spine.

Shizuo looked down at his own. It fell to the ground and slithered along the sidewalk under the city crowd. What did it mean? Should he follow it?

"Shizuo!"

The blond's head snapped up. Kadota hopped out of the van and made his way towards him. Karisawa and Yumasaki slid the side door open and poked out to watch them. Their strings were tied to one another, glowing brightly from the darkness of the van's interior.

"Kadota."

"What are you doing out? Are you alright?"

Shizuo blinked before it clicked. Kadota was the one who'd found him and brought him to Shinra's last night. In his daze, he'd forgotten completely, but now as he saw the familiar anxiety in his brow, it came back to him.

"Don't worry about me. Thank you, for last night."

"Anytime, Shizuo. You know we couldn't just leave you there." Kadota shook his head. Behind him, Shizuo could hear whispers going on back and forth between Karisawa and Yumasaki, a word that sounded something like 'Shidota' reaching his ears. He glanced down at Kadota's thread — it was tied to another's far off out of sight.

"Shizuo."

He snapped out of his haze and coughed. "Sorry. I'm… tired, I guess."

"Take it easy, Shizuo. For both of us."

"And us too!" Karisawa pouted. "If you die, how will I ship you wi-" At that, Yumasaki slapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her back into the van as Kadota closed the door and waved goodbye. Shizuo nodded and went on his way. He held his left hand up to his face and watched the scarlet thread shine. As his arm dropped to his side, the string began to move on the ground like a snake, pulling through pedestrians' lines and turning a corner.

With another burst of curiosity, Shizuo decided to follow his string and see where it led — for better or for worse.


	4. Chapter 4

The scarlet thread pulled Shizuo through Sunshine 60. It was already close to noon, and his stomach started to rumble as he approached Russia Sushi. As his eyes watched the thread along the ground, a pair of familiar shoes appeared before him. He blinked and looked up, suddenly made aware again of the rest of the world. The shoes belonged to Tom, who gave him a quizzical look.

"Shizuo…?"

"Uh." Shizuo shifted on his feet and averted his eyes to the ground – more importantly, his red string, which lay still for the moment. "Hi Tom-san."

"What are you doing?"

"Sorry, uh…" He felt his pocket for his phone, but it wasn't there. Probably shattered on impact. "I lost my phone." And technically, this wasn't lying to Tom, and he felt a little better about that.

"You look like you're following bread crumbs," Tom said with a lighthearted laugh. "Well, I guess it can't be helped. What happened to you? You're a wreck."

Shizuo realized that he hadn't looked in a mirror recently but it was easy enough to say he probably looked like shit. He hadn't even checked to see if he was wrapped in bandages, and, as he brought his hand to his forehead, he noticed he was. There had been a few wrapped about his shoulders as well, but he'd regarded them only faintly.

"Fell off a roof," Shizuo muttered, so lowly that his boss almost didn't catch it.

"A roof?" Tom wouldn't have believed it if not for the bandages and the fact that he knew Shizuo better than to think he would lie to him to get out of work. "You should be recuperating! What the hell are you doing outside?"

For the sake of consistency, Shizuo gave Tom the same excuse he'd given Shinra. "Fresh air."

Tom growled and grabbed Shizuo's hand. "Come on, I'll buy you lunch. You're probably starved."

He ordered for Shizuo as they took a small booth by the red-printed windows. Shizuo couldn't help but stare at the same red, passing back and forth in a never-ending web. Everyone had them. Tom was about to split his chopsticks apart when Shizuo spoke up.

"Tom-san."

"Hm?" His grip on the chopsticks relaxed.

"What do you know about… how do I put this…" Shizuo scratched the back of his head, eyes scanning the table at nothing in particular – just for something to look at as he thought. "A red string tied to someone's finger?"

The food arrived, and both said thank you to Simon, who stepped back to deal with the rest of the restaurant. Tom split his chopsticks apart, frowned when they didn't come out perfectly, and peeled a few straggling splinters away. Shizuo's came out even worse, and Tom burst into laughter as he closed his chopsticks around a roll of artichoke sushi.

"There's an old Chinese saying, Shizuo. It goes, something like, 'A man with one chopstick goes hungry.'"

Shizuo clicked his together and frowned. "You mean, like… you always need someone else in your life or you won't survive?"

"Actually, I was suggesting you might want to ask for a new pair."

The blond began to use his regardless, taking up a piece of today's special – soft caramel sushi – and popping it into his mouth. "So?"

"What?" Tom looked up, mouth still full as he spoke.

"Red strings?" Shizuo held up his hand to show off the string, only realizing a second afterward that Tom probably couldn't see them.

"What, like red strings of fate?"

Shizuo's chopsticks froze above another caramel roll. Now that he thought about it, he'd heard of them somewhere but never connected the two together. "Red strings of what?"

"Fate." Tom was starting to get sick of the artichoke taste and grabbed the caramel roll that Shizuo hadn't picked up. "You know, being tied to the person you're destined for, that kind of thing. Why do you ask?"

Shizuo was silently choking on his food. _What._ "Um." He swallowed. "I saw it on some TV show."

Tom didn't seem to notice his discomfort. He nodded. "Yeah, that's basically the gist of it. You don't see them, but there's that myth that we've all got one." Tom wiggled his fingers and, contrary to Tom's theory, Shizuo could plainly see the bright ruby thread around his pinky. "It's hopeful, isn't it?"

Shizuo watched him smile over his sushi. He was taking out the artichokes altogether.

"What is?"

"I mean, isn't it saying that there's someone out there for all of us?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for posting the wrong chapter, guys! FF is having a glitch of some sort, because when I tried it again, it still posted Ch. 5 of "Find Me." (The doc I tried to upload still shows up as this one, though. Weird.)**

**Anyway, enjoy the REAL chapter~!**

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><p>The rest of their conversation seemed like a blur. Tom was talking about some difficulty he'd had with work this morning, or something like that, but Shizuo didn't pay much attention save for an occasional nod or hum. His eyes were trained to the window, seeing the red threads pass back and forth. Another couple walked by, strings attached, as Shizuo and Tom left the restaurant, and suddenly it came to him.<p>

"Tom, is it okay if I have off for today?"

"Of course. Take it easy."

They waved goodbye to one another and went their separate ways. Now, as Shizuo ran through the crowd, he didn't know why he the thought hadn't occurred to him sooner. His eyes followed the string's trail, turning corners without really looking where he was going.

It was like this string of fate was making him run in circles. Shizuo was sure he's already passed this street. He stopped to rest for a moment and collect his thoughts.

For years, Shizuo had been looking for love. He had friends who trusted him, friends who needed him, friends who enjoyed his company. But never had he met someone that might actually accept and come to truly love him. The legendary monster of Ikebukuro had been cut off from those who were viewed in the common eye as the whole of humanity. Shizuo had had countless nightmares of watching everyone he knew walking away, talking amongst themselves, never looking back or paying the blond a second thought as they left him in a world of emptiness. To have the opportunity to find out who this person was…

Maybe he could get a head start.

Shizuo pushed himself from the wall behind his back and kept looking. Each step he took seemed to make the string pulse and come to life. Shizuo felt himself coming to life as well. His mind was swimming with questions: _Is it someone I know? What does she look like? Where is she from? What would she think of me?_

Who could it be?

And then, the one he'd dreaded thinking about.

_What do I say?_

Shizuo stopped again. What _would_he say? "Hi, you don't really know me but I'm destined to be with you"? "There's this red string connecting our fingers that only I can see but it means we're supposed to fall in love"? The whole thing was stupid – Shizuo had never flirted in his entire life, let alone learned how to. Would Celty know how? He reached down to his pocket only to remember that he didn't have his phone. Damn.

The thread shifted on the ground before him. His fated lover was moving. It would only move if the person were close by, right? Shizuo spun to follow it and reached the curb breathlessly. It dipped toward the ground and raised again to wind into the door of a sleek black car with tinted windows. Shizuo held his breath, opting for leaning against a nearby building in case the need to hide arose. Was this person rich or famous?

As the door clicked and opened slowly, Shizuo found himself holding his breath in until it was painful.

The thin vermillion string glowed blindingly bright.


	6. Chapter 6

A hand emerging, cloaked in black with tan fur trim, made his heart drop to his feet. The other end of his string was tied, almost daintily, to the little finger.

_…..No._

The rest of the coat emerged, followed by the remaining body, creamy peach-colored skin shone in the afternoon sunlight and bounced off inky tresses. Back still turned, he unfolded himself from the matching black car and twirled his fingers in a playful wave goodbye to someone inside.

_No no no no no._

If Shizuo could've imagined Izaya being the one to step out of that car, he would have slapped himself repeatedly and devoted himself to living as a hermit, never allowing anyone to let him see the light of day if only he could avoid knowing what he knew now. It couldn't be possible. Maybe Tom had been wrong, or was just pulling his leg. Maybe "Fate" had made a mistake – yes, a very grave mistake.

Izaya wasn't supposed to be his destiny.

But Shizuo couldn't ignore the sight before him. He scanned their scarlet thread up and down over and over, pulled at his own and watched as it pulled in turn on the string around Izaya's finger.

Though the string seemed to have no physical effect on Izaya's sense of touch, he nonetheless turned his body as if he had heard a scuffle behind him. Shizuo quickly hid himself again, plastering his back against the wall. His heart thumped furiously against his chest, making him feel like he were watching a horror movie, waiting for the serial killer to pop around the corner with a baseball bat whenever you least expected it.

He didn't want to know what might happen now if he met that crimson gaze.

As he waited, Shizuo began to feel anger boiling through his veins. Only Izaya could have done this. Either Fate was wrong or the damned flea had done_something_ – could he see the strings too? It would be crazy to ask, though it explained why he might enjoy manipulating people. But Shizuo nevertheless convinced himself that this was all wrong, _wrong wrong wrong._

Mentally, he had reached that point: when every word on his mind played repeatedly until it began to flow from his lips, a mantra that did not calm him but rather fueled his rage until the bomb went off. Shizuo's fingernails were scraping the wall behind him, cement chipping off in large chunks until he'd made eight parallel lines up the wall beneath his palms.

"Shizu-chan?"

The blond jumped and snarled at the flea below him, jawbone protruding as he clenched his teeth in anger and hoped he didn't say anything revealing. Izaya would only laugh at him if he knew Shizuo was hallucinating (which Shizuo was fairly sure he was), and then he'd probably spread rumors around the Internet.

"Shizu-chan, why are you hiding? Are you trying to surprise me?" A smirk played across his lips as his eyes danced. "Oh, I _do_love surprises!~"

On instinct, Shizuo's eyes were already about, taking every possible projectile into his mental inventory. A mailbox, a stop sign, a street lamp, and a few trash cans were scattered around. With any luck, Shizuo could kill Izaya here and now, and his string would have to find someone else.

"You're being unusually quiet, Shizu-chan. You haven't even said, sung or growled my name yet," Izaya purred, eyes narrowing over shady red as if he expected him to choose one of the three — like a math test, and Shizuo had never been very good at math.

He drew closer, and Shizuo recoiled in response. Maybe it was his only imagination, but he spotted a faint flicker of disgust in Izaya's soft, taunting glare.

Or was Shizuo just seeing a reflection of his own disgust in those ruby pools?

Shizuo glanced downward. Now that the informant had drawn closer, the string had retracted and hung gracefully, ends just a few inches apart. Its glow was far brighter, halo of light swelling but casting no glimmer or shadows on either hand.

Suddenly, without another word, without another thought, and with a small flit of hesitation, Shizuo removed himself from the wall and circled past Izaya. He had to get away before he did anything to compromise himself. Only when he had briskly traversed several blocks did he turn to look over his shoulder to see if Izaya had followed him. He hadn't. Shizuo kept walking, not quite sure of where he might end up. "None of the above" had been his final answer.

His sole quiet glimmer of relief came when he saw that the string between them was growing longer.

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><p><strong>So I'm going on a bit of a trip (leaving on Sunday) for about two weeks. I'll be back at the beginning of August and I'll try to update as much as I can before I go!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Guess who's back~**

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><p>Izaya stepped into his office a little haphazardly. Something wasn't right, just wasn't right. Shizuo would never pass up the chance for a fight with him, and Izaya had been extremely careful to provoke him just a little more than usual. Was he getting tired of their usual games? He'd have to come up with something a bit more creative.<p>

"Any bruises?" Namie asked as he entered, not once looking up from the floor. She was down on her knees by his desk with various papers strewn about her nylon legs.

"Nope," Izaya said almost happily, and skipped forward as the door shut behind him.

"Huh." She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. "That's unusual."

"It is."

A long awkward silence followed. Izaya was expecting the conversation to go a little further. Sometimes it helped to talk things out – it sorted his jumbled thoughts until they made just a little more sense. He rocked back and forth on his heels and puffed out his cheeks, waiting for Namie to say something, but she busied herself with work. Then he remembered that it's Namie — as if she would be curious about Izaya's daily escapades.

"Hey."

"What?"

"I said it _is_pretty unusual."

"I've got ears, _Orihara-san._" The informant's name was given a considerable amount of emphasis, as if it were a strong curse word rather than a title. Finally, she glanced up and put down a few of the papers in her hand. "Alright, you've got four— no, three minutes."

"More than enough, _Yagiri-san~_" Izaya wasted no time beginning. "Well I was getting back from a meeting with Shiki-san when I find Shizuo. But not seething-with-a-stop-sign Shizuo, more… _hiding-behind-a-wall_Shizuo. Which is odd, right?" Namie nodded distractedly. "So I go up to him and ask him why he's hiding. I was hoping it was just a new game he wanted to play, or if he was going to pop out, like… SURPRISE!"

The sudden exclamation startled Namie, sending a file slipping from her hands.

"But all he did was look at me like I was an alien! I do all this work to make sure he sees me one way and all of a sudden he's gone and turned things around on me! So I kept getting closer, and right when I did that, well…"

Izaya flopped down on his stylish black couch, kicking his legs over the back. "He spun around and walked away."

"Maybe he's tired of you."

"Namie, Namie Namie. Of _course_he's tired of me – that's the point of our entire relationship. But today he seemed almost…" His voice trailed off in thought, and when he didn't finish the sentence, Namie's curiosity got the better of her.

"Almost what?"

"…Fearful."

Another period of quietude as Izaya kicked off one of his shoes. It fell to the floor with a loud thunk against the hardwood. Suddenly, Namie laughed harder than Izaya had ever heard her laugh. Izaya had to twist off the couch to get a look at her crouched, quaking form.

"Namie-chan! What's so funny?"

She couldn't speak coherently for a good minute or so. Her breath came in long gasps until the high lowered.

"Shizuo Heiwajima. _Shizuo Heiwajima._ Scared. _Of you_."

Izaya pouted. "What's wrong with that?"

"The day Shizuo Heiwajima is scared of you…" She stacked some papers together. "Will be the day that you two fall in love or something. Never going to happen."

Izaya chuckled and fell back onto the couch again, raising his palm up to the ceiling. He enjoyed the tingling feeling as the blood began to drain from his fingertips.

"Heh. Guess you're right."


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, Shinra."

The doctor was surprised to get a call from Shizuo. It had been all day, now it was nearly 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and he hadn't seen or heard anything of him until now. Shinra gestured for Celty to get her bike ready.

"There you are. I was wondering where you'd run off to!~" he said, smiling in his usual annoyingly bright mood.

"Yeah, just… needed to take a walk."

"Was it successful?"

There was a long pause. Shinra could almost hear the gears in his broken head trying to turn, grating incorrectly against one another. For a moment, he started to think Shizuo might've collapsed or dropped the phone or _something,_ until finally he responded slowly.

"Not really… Can one of you pick me up?"

Shinra gave a nod to the headless rider. "Where should I be sending Celty?"

Another gear-turner. A drawn-out "uhhhhhhh" sounded from the other end. A few rustling sounds, a flick. A groan or a growl desperate for some Advil.

"I don't really know where I am."

Shinra pinched the bridge of his nose, frowned, and pushed his glasses back up. "Well can you tell me what's around you?"

An exhale, probably of smoke. "I'm in front of an aquarium."

"An aquarium?" Hearing that, Celty nodded and made her way to the streets on a hunt.

"Yeah, it's this big kind of ugly aquarium."

Shinra fought off a laugh. "And what were you planning to do at this aquarium, Shizuo?"

"I dunno," the blond muttered. "Just sorta wandered here. Wasn't planned."

"Celty's on her way. Don't go anywhere."

"'Kay."

A click as Shizuo hung up. Shinra was left holding his phone, very perplexed about what just happened, and staring down at the screen as if he expected the answer to flash up on it like a text message. He shrugged it off, however, and set up the sofa for Shizuo's arrival.

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><p><em>Wasn't planned.<em>

Nothing was planned anymore. Shizuo couldn't help but feel a little hopeless as he slumped against the hideous bright blue walls of the aquarium building. If this really was a string of fate, then what exactly was the point of trying? If everything was laid out and planned for him, why would he have to try? No matter what he did, said, _became_ — would mean nothing if it was not where he was "supposed to go". What was the point of going down his own special fork in the road if all the forks eventually merged into the same street?

And then, of course, there was the issue of a certain informant.

It _had_ to be a joke. There was no doubt in Shizuo's mind. For the simple reason that he hated the goddamned flea, never mind _had near-murderous intent just thinking about him,_ made the entire idea completely impossible.

Of course, the thought still nagged at the back of his mind, probably part of the cause of his headache at the moment. What did this kind of fate mean? Would the two of them be stuck together no matter what, no matter whether or not there was any actual… _love_ — Shizuo shuddered at the notion — between them? Or would fate find some sick, twisted way to bring them together?

Shizuo was only sure of one thing as he lit his fourteenth cigarette that day: if he was going to find love one day, he would want to be in control.

_Fate can go fuck itself,_ Shizuo thought as Celty pulled up to the curb before him.


	9. Chapter 9

Without saying a word, Shizuo acknowledged Celty with a simple nod and made for the door of the aquarium. The black rider followed, Curiosity getting the better of the woman under a cat helmet. Shizuo placed his half-burnt cigarette in a small pouch for later as they entered.

The pair was met with glass walls keeping in bright blue tropical waters in a tunnel-shaped hallway. Varieties of fish passed by the windows and coral homes. Water refracted light onto any surface it could find, illuminating undulating patterns along the floor and across the window of Celty's helmet. Much to her surprise, she realized that she'd never been here before, a startling revelation filled with a dull sense of regret. It was, for lack of more colorful words, beautiful. She couldn't see much of what was going on in terms of Shizuo's expression; his back was turned toward her as he watched the fish stare back at him.

Celty stepped forward, admiring the scene with invisible eyes, only to be stopped by a gentle hand placed above her chest.

"Don't touch the glass."

[What are you afraid of?]

_Will they swim away in fear?_

_Will they regard him like a predator?_

"Sign says don't touch." Shizuo gestured with a thumb over his shoulder to a small red and white sign behind him. Celty nodded. There was a mild nonchalance clouding those brown eyes, like a mask hiding something deeper, something that couldn't just be scratched from the surface. But the rider, knowing Shizuo well, didn't dare pry into it. Their relationship was of mutual silence until one decided to open up to the other.

So Celty admired the strange, alien but familiar creatures from afar. It may have been better this way, to get close but not close enough to see any ugly things that might ruin a distant beauty.

Shizuo and Celty walked to another section, where the lights were darker but the tanks were lit with blue and white. They appeared empty at first, until a small seahorse floated up to the glass, kicking its curled tail and kissing the window. If Celty could have smiled — instead, SF smoke swirled around inside her helmet, an expression of happiness that she hoped the blond shared. She turned to face Shizuo, whose eyes had softened somewhat.

"They're trapped," he finally said.

[They're for display.]

"And nothing more. That's what I mean." The blond placed his hand on the glass, closing his eyes in complete knowledgeable ignorance of the sign he himself had pointed out only minutes before.

[Are you trapped by something, Shizuo?]

His hand slipped down from the glass a little, creating a light fingerprint streak. "You wouldn't know it."

Celty typed away, then erased it and typed again. [Is there a reason you asked me to come here?]

"To pick me up." The blond scratched the nape of his neck for a moment. "But when I think of any more reasons, I'll be sure to let you know."

They made their way to the jellyfish display. The creatures were so thin and practically transparent that the lights illuminated them in various colors tinting milky white. A group of them in one tank floated up to the surface together like bubbles. Like a person held underwater had finally let go of their last breath.

"I'm not in control anymore," Shizuo said to her.

They walked a while longer before Celty finally produced a response. She tapped on his shoulder, and he turned.

[You're strong in many ways, Shizuo. Whatever it is you're going through, I have no doubt you'll come out of it.]

As they left the aquarium and Shizuo boarded the back of Celty's motorcycle, an echoing thought remained in his mind, always coming back to him in intervals of skepticism and denial.

_But do I_ want _to come out of it?_


	10. Chapter 10

The next day was a day of experimentation.

"Guh… dammit!"

He took of from work early, much to the begrudging complaint of Tom. But that didn't matter now.

"C'mon!– oh hell…"

He'd turned his cellphone off after the constant ringing from Shinra had started to give him a headache. Shizuo exhaled, unable to believe he'd been thoroughly defeated by a stupid piece of ghost string. He'd taken two ends into his grip and pulled, only for it to extend out and slacken in his hands.

Currently, the carmine thread was tied around the doorknob and Shizuo's leg was braced firmly against the dark wood. If it worked for teeth—

Shizuo tugged and promptly fell back to the floor. It hadn't even ripped the doorknob off.

He tried his teeth next. The string slipped through his canines like nothing and settled back onto his finger. Shizuo stared at it, frowning and cursing the damned thing. It sat there and pulsed innocently.

"What do I have to do to escape you?"

Shizuo's eyes travelled down to the string's trail. It wound across the couch and under the front door, glowing under the threshold shadow. It brought him absolutely no comfort to know that his worst enemy was on the other side.

It just wasn't possible.

After nearly an hour of mulling it over, Shizuo turned on his phone and threw it under a pillow. He waited for all the loud notifications from Shinra's messages to subside until there was complete silence. Celty's contact was the first to pop up in his address book.

[What do you know about love?]

It had taken him ten minutes to send this message to her, but those ten minutes had seemed like more than an eternity. The answer, however, was almost instantaneous, nearly startling Shizuo off the bed where he sat.

[Is this about the jellyfish?]

Shizuo texted back after a moment of thought.

[I'm coming over.]

It would be better to talk to her about this in person, he decided. At the very least he could comfort her — the jellyfish _had_looked quite like an alien.

[I don't think that's a good idea.]

Shizuo received this text when he was already halfway over to Shinra's, and decided to ignore the warning seeing as he was so close. Picking up take-out dinner on his way, his stomach growled as he approached the door and finally knocked. No answer, but the place was open, so he stepped inside.

The plastic bag of sushi dropped to the hardwood floor with a rustling thud.

"Ah, so Shizu-chan decided to join us! What a surprise~"

Celty's dark form moved in front of Shizuo to block his view of the pesky informant, but it was too late — Shizuo's hunger for fish was gone, replaced by a thirst for Izaya's blood.

"Izayaaaa…"

The informant was lying upside-down on the couch, his head on the seat cushions while thin legs dangled in the air over the back. He stretched his arms up as if to grab lazily for him. Shinra sat next to Izaya, holding Celty's and his own video game controllers while he chewed two pieces of _gyoza _at a time. And that damned string, that fucking curse of an attachment wove between the two enemies, blindingly bright vermillion clearly standing out from the dimness of the room.

"You're not gonna run this time, are you? I've missed you so, Shizu-chan!~"

"Izaya, what are you doing here?" The blond felt his hands automatically balling into fists, vaguely remembering how his nails had taken small chunks from the wall just yesterday.

"I could ask the same thing!"

[Shizuo, don't.]

"The best place to get injured is at a hospital, right?" Without another word, Shizuo briskly stormed past the back of the couch while grabbing one of the informant's ankles. He dragged Izaya from the couch, waiting until he was far enough for both feet to touch the ground before fisting the flea's collar and towing him into the hallway; Shizuo ignored the smaller man's protests and kicks.

"I'll be right back."


	11. Chapter 11

Izaya was flung into the bathroom with little mercy, lower back snapping hard against the countertop and sink. Shizuo locked the door behind him, glaring from his blue lenses as a snarl rose in his throat. As usual, Izaya was able to keep a brave face and run his mouth out of the situation.

"I'm impressed you didn't split the door, Shizu-chan!" Izaya teased, pulling himself up to stand.

"Shut the hell up, flea!" Shizuo stepped forward and bunched the front of the informant's shirt in his fist. "The fuck are you doing here?"

Izaya just laughed, a sound that may as well have been a cheese grater to the blond's ears. "Seriously, Shizu-chan. You don't think I spend all my time fighting you, now do you? Don't get so conceited, I don't revolve around you~"

"Then don't get so goddamn cocky!" Shizuo slammed him back into the tiled wall, cracking a few here and there. Izaya swore he saw a couple stars before his eyes but blinked them away.

"Especially when you just up and leave me like you did last time!" He laughed harder, quaking his form against the wall.

"Fucking flea, it's _you're _fault I'm—"

Shizuo paused. He couldn't tell Izaya what he was seeing, or he'd never hear the end of it. Izaya seemed to stop as well, smirk fading just a little as a question hovered on his tongue. A loud knock on the door made them both glance over Shizuo's shoulder.

"Shizuo, I heard something break! Open the door or Celty's coming in there!"

The blond had to admit that the only sound more annoying than Izaya's laughter was Shinra's whining. The informant, however, took this time to escape Shizuo's grasp, slipping down the wall and ducking under his arm. He made for the shower door and pulled it closed with him. Shizuo caught the metal frame just in time, and it was only by a miracle that the glass didn't shatter. He stepped inside and couldn't see Izaya's dark form in time.

Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut as a spray of warm water doused his face. Trying to shield himself with his arms proved useless, and his entire upper body was soaked in a matter of seconds as the shower died down.

"You should see yourself, Shizu-chan! Just like a wet dog!"

The water in his sunglasses made it difficult to see. Blindly, Shizuo managed to wrench the shower head from Izaya's hands and turned it on him while hitting the temperature dial. The water instantly went ice cold and sent Izaya against the wall, trying to fight it off in vain. Shizuo found himself grinning madly, holding the informant's ability to retaliate in his control.

Shizuo turned the water off and set it back in place. Like a cat in a bath, Izaya's frame appeared infinitely smaller, clothes clinging tightly to his skin. Head down, his hair dripped to the floor drain. He grinned suddenly, gaze flitting up to Shizuo's with a dimly lit fire.

"F-fighting water with water, how v-very original, Sh-Shizu-chan!~"

The blond grabbed his neck and thrust him to the shower wall, the back of his head colliding painfully and cracking another tile. Izaya grit his teeth and winced but recovered quickly, forcing his eyes open. Shinra was banging on the door again, but this wasn't what stopped the blond.

Izaya was shivering violently.

"Hey."

Izaya glared up at him, challenging the former bartender with a light smirk. Shizuo's eyes raked him up and down, taking in the dripping black tresses and the brilliant red behind lashes trapping water. A pale sheen coated his skin and pushed down the V-neck collar, leaving the informant's neck nakedly exposed. His teeth chattered.

"G-Going soft on me, Sh-shizu-chan?" The sudden words snapped him back to the flea. "C-Can you even fight m-me anymore?"

That smirk.

He knew he'd won.

The hand around his neck relaxed, still strong enough to hold him in place so he didn't try anything. His thumb, however, slipped from one side to the other. Shizuo cupped the junction between neck and jaw almost gently, enough to make Izaya shiver a little at the strange stare he was forced to take in. Their faces were suddenly close, too close, Shizuo's mind was suddenly screaming _get away get away fucking hell get away right now–_

And then his eyes fell to his own hand on the younger man's cold skin, fingers parting smooth drenched hair. The cursed red string of fate tying his little finger to Izaya's. He couldn't allow this to happen, couldn't allow himself to be swept up and away by stupid little details like Izaya's slick lips and lithe form beneath his touch, folding in on itself as he trembled quietly—

Shizuo tore himself away before the thoughts ventured further and left the shower stall, leaving once again a very perplexed Izaya. On his way out of the bathroom, he threw a towel haphazardly into Izaya's face over the frosted glass walls.

"I'm not gonna beat you while you're down. Don't get sick."


	12. Chapter 12

Izaya smiled at him warmly while Shizuo tried to find a trace of malice that wasn't there. Bright ruby had softened just a little, something almost human, so breathtaking that the blond almost forgot where he was.

…Where were they again?

A ragged, undulating line shone out from the blackness, like two-dimensional mountains in a tight, narrow space. Izaya sat on a short hill a few waves away, hands planted on the slopes at his sides and swinging his legs in the air. The black and tan-trimmed jacket was sliding from his shoulders, exposing the upper edges of his traditional V-neck.

_"Hey, where—"_

Shizuo stopped himself, because suddenly no sound was escaping his mouth. It was as if he was behind a sheet of glass, forced to watch the skeptical image of his enemy who grinned. Their red string of fate was resting in his hand.

_What will you do, Shizuo?_

In an instant, Shizuo was sitting on lower ground than Izaya. His plane was flat and level as the informant gazed down from his makeshift throne.

_Can you love me, Shizuo?_

Izaya moved his lips to the words, but they didn't seem to be coming from his mouth; they reverberated off intangible walls. Brow furrowed, Shizuo shifted his body and stood, only to have his feet rooted to the spot.

_Catch me, Shizuo._

This wasn't right.

Izaya tugged softly at the string, and Shizuo felt something in his chest pulling him forward, but his body couldn't move, so Izaya tugged harder, and a loud beep began to grow louder in his ears, _an underwater submersion that blocked him from the surface_

_Izaya!_

Shizuo's heart began to beat faster, painfully against his ribcage. The sounds swelled, Izaya speaking unintelligibly as he yanked harder like he was torturing a puppy on the other end of a taut leash. This wasn't right, this couldn't be real.

Izaya never called him by his full name.

Izaya pulled harder, but instead of drawing Shizuo to him, the string pulled Izaya, and he slid down from the slope and halted artificially in front of the blond. Shizuo stared down, suddenly unable to move, speak, breathe, and the shorter informant placed his hand on the black vest while holding the string where it was closest to the skin. The string was not attached to his finger now, but faded into the left side of his chest, and _just before Izaya pulled again he flickered those glassy claret orbs up to meet Shizuo's_

"Iza—!"

Shizuo sat up sharply in bed, fighting against the sheets and painfully meeting the morning light. His chest heaved against a thin sheen of sweat along his skin, and if he didn't know any better he'd have thought he might be having a panic attack. His breath settled only after a few long minutes, and even longer for him to convince himself that the room around him was real. His own room. Izaya was nowhere to be seen. Shizuo ran a hand back through his hair, finding dampness at the roots from night sweats and a bead rolling down his spine. He forced himself to relax, setting back into the bed and trying to compose himself.

All of a sudden he realized what the sound was. Reaching for the bedside table, Shizuo grabbed his cellphone from the surface and scanned the messages Tom had been leaving all morning that had caused constant vibration.

Shizuo took the morning trying to piece together what he remembered of the day before. Seeing Izaya at Shinra's, the fight in the shower and dousing Izaya with cold water, then leaving the sushi he'd initially bought for himself and insisting Shinra could have it — a gift, he'd lied. He figured it would be wise to go back again to see if the fall hadn't left him with lasting effects.

Just a dream.

Shizuo sighed. Just a dream.

About Izaya.


	13. Chapter 13

Somewhere in the heart of Ikebukuro, shielded from the late morning activity by ornate walls and a tall black Russian man, Izaya sneezed.

"I-ZA-ya," Simon called as he set a plate of ootoro before him. "Sick? Should stay home, get better! I make chicken soup sushi especially for you."

Izaya wiped his nose with his sleeve unceremoniously and sniffed. "What are you talking about, Simon? I'm not sick! I'm Orihara Izaya!" He forced a cloudy-headed smile despite how weary he actually felt. _'Not to mention that "Russian" special sounds like it might_ really _make me sick.'_

"You sneeze." Simon waggled a finger. "Someone thinking of you."

"You've got the sayings mixed up, Simon." Izaya popped a piece into his mouth and took a little longer to swallow it down; he found it difficult to breathe now that one of his avenues was clogged up. After a few seconds of staring, Simon suddenly smiled and walked away to hand out more fliers outside. Izaya sniffed again, wrinkling his nose.

_This is all Shizu-chan's fault._

"And who in their right mind would be thi—"

Izaya's self-mutterings were cut off by his cellphone, ringing to a popular Vocaloid song. The informant grinned at the personalized ringtone and flipped the phone open.

"Were you thinking about me just now, Shiki-san~?"

He heard a groan from the other end. "Cut the shit, Izaya." If Izaya knew Shiki well enough, the Awakusu head was pinching the bridge of his nose to will away an Izaya-instilled headache. "I need you to do some digging around."

"Oh? Sounds like fun!"

"If you don't keep your mouth shut, it won't be."

Izaya made an audible zipper sound of closing his mouth and a motion even though Shiki couldn't see it. "I'm all ears," he whispered.

Another sigh. "It's about a new drug circulating around. We don't know exactly what it does, but from our intel so far, it looks quite dangerous and very evasive. I want you to use your connections and uncover anything you can find."

"I'll get Namie to check her resources right away, Shiki-san!"

Shiki ignored the excitement in Izaya's voice. "Good. Report back to me in two weeks, we'll meet in person."

"I'll be free."

"Mm." There was a pause, in which Izaya wondered if Shiki had already hung up as he was wont to do, but then, "Izaya, are you okay?"

Izaya grinned wildly. "Hmm~? Is Shiki-san worried about me?"

"…Your voice sounds different. Do you have a cold?"

"Just a bit under the weather, that's all. Don't think about it too much, ne?~"

Shiki sighed. "If it gets you to shut up."

_"Shiki-no-danna! If you don't hurry up, we're going to miss lunch!" _Akabayashi's voice sounded faintly from the other end.

"Is this where we say goodbye, Shiki-san?" Izaya asked with a laugh.

"If I keep him waiting, he'll… well, I'll never hear the end of it."

For some strange reason, Izaya waved at the phone. "Byebyebii~"

Shiki contemplated another "shut up," but decided against it and merely hung up the phone. Izaya lifted the cell from his ear and smiled at it while popping another ootoro into his mouth. So much to do, so much to see, so many humans to love, and of course, never enough time!


	14. Chapter 14

"There you are."

Tom stood at their meeting place, hands shoved in his pockets and tapping his foot. Shizuo tried to smile awkwardly and apologized for keeping him waiting.

"That's fine, I understand after what happened."

"What?"

Tom cocked an eyebrow. "I mean, how are you feeling?"

Shizuo blinked, and it took him several moments for it to register. He'd almost forgotten about falling from the roof of a building, which he'll admit was not something someone normal tended to overlook. His head didn't hurt, nor anywhere else. Shizuo only wished his hallucinations would go away. The blond was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he almost ignored Tom's question.

"F-Fine. I'm fine."

"Great. Shall we go?"

Shizuo followed his boss obediently, keeping close behind him as they made their way into the crowd. The string was moving along the ground, telling him that Izaya was somewhere nearby. Damn him, couldn't he just mind his own business in Shinjuku? Why did he have to cause trouble here? Shizuo ran a hand through his hair and masochistically thought about tugging at it; but his arm dropped as they reached their destination.

The job lasted a mere fifteen minutes once they saw a display of Shizuo's strength. Shizuo had become a little irritated at the man who had been spending all the couple's money on movie tickets without his wife — and "a little irritated" meant breaking the door in half and just grazing the guy on both sides.

Shizuo lit his fourth cigarette since the morning, earning a sigh from Tom. "You're a bit on-edge today."

He nodded. It had mostly nothing to do with the jobs, but he couldn't tell Tom what was actually going on. Instead, Shizuo blew a trail of smoke into the afternoon air.

"Well, I've gotta go." Tom patted him on the back on his way past. "Take care of yourself, Shizuo."

"Un." Shizuo nodded again and watched Tom go from his peripherals, then sighed and hung over the railing that separated him from overpass below.

Suddenly the string on his finger began to shift at his feet. Shizuo raised his head, wondering if he should follow.

_Chance is an enemy of Fate._

_Chance throws Fate off its course, makes it have to work magic to get its subjects back on track. Chance gets between Fate and Curiosity, creating a thin, malleable barrier between them. Chance is the difference between a left and a right turn, and not just a difference but a choice that can either follow Fate's will or disrupt it entirely._

_Sometimes, however, Chance will do small favor when Fate is stuck._

Shizuo decided to follow the thread. If his intuition served him right, Izaya was a mere few blocks away. The further he walked, however, the more his anger grew. How dare Izaya be fated to love with him. There was no way in hell, even if the flea came to fall in love with him, that Shizuo would ever return those—

The sight around the corner made him stop in his tracks.


	15. Chapter 15

Izaya was lying lazily on the cement bench that encircled a short tree. Back on the bench, his legs draped over the side as a plastic bag lay innocently on the ground near his hand — the "Russia Sushi" label was printed on its surface. Because of his position, Izaya's shirt was riding up just a little, exposing a few inches of smooth, pale stomach above the belt. Shizuo tried furiously to will away the heat rising to his cheeks.

At first he thought Izaya might have been asleep, but then the informant sat up all too quickly. His hand hovered in front of his face, body rocking a little on the bench. Confused, Shizuo waited and watched, and then all of a sudden Izaya sneezed, and it was possibly the most adorable thing the blond had ever witnessed, not to mention something coming from the flea. Izaya sniffled, tears budding to the corners of his eyes, and sneezed again. His hair was coming out of place and parts of his face were flushed red. The fur-trimmed sleeves suddenly seemed too long for him as he used the end to wipe his nose, scrunching his eyes shut and sighing.

Shizuo plastered himself to the other side of the wall in case Izaya accidentally looked over, but when he looked back Izaya was back to lying on the bench, more lazily than the last time. Izaya groaned and sniffled again, and Shizuo's cigarette fell freely from his lips.

Izaya's head was pounding from the sinus headache. The lightheadedness was making him dizzy, not to mention appear tipsy. He had to breathe through his mouth entirely now, and even then the sound was wet and wheezy. Izaya pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping it would clear up or at least stop the redness in his eyes. The skin underneath them was already starting to puff up.

He wondered if he'd be able to eat at this rate. Just those few pieces of ootoro at lunch had left him almost completely out of breath. Maybe he'd ask Shinra to set him up for intravenous nutrition, but the idea of not being able to taste the foods he loved turned him off of it. Not like he was able to taste it now anyway. Izaya bolted up again and sneezed.

Shizuo had seen his fair share of cute things from kittens to that one baby laughing on a home video show. Izaya with a cold, however, easily took the cake. A small part of him — very small and very suppressed — wanted to go up and hug him tightly, and maybe his fur-covered hands would wrap around to clutch him back–

_Stop that._Shizuo was so close to slapping himself. Izaya was not cute. Izaya worked with yakuza and other shady organizations to get informations about people, he ran underhanded deals in secluded locations. Izaya was his worst enemy and had been since their eyes had first met back in high school. Izaya was annoying, obnoxious, devious…

When Shizuo looked again, Izaya was leaving the park, dinner dangling limply from his fingers. He staggered in his walk as he sneezed.

Shizuo's heart didn't settle down even as he got back home.

* * *

><p><strong>Love the reviews~ Thank you guys!<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Profuse apologies for the delay! /squirms**

* * *

><p>"Namie, I need… you to… make a call."<p>

Namie frowned in annoyance, creasing her well-shaped eyebrows together. As usual, she was organizing Izaya's numerous files — they never ended and always seemed to be untidy. "Your cell's right in front of you, make the call yourself."

"What do you think… I pay you for, Namie… chan?"

His assistant finally looked up, showing her displeasure full-force. "Okay really, what's with all the pauses?"

"I… I…"

Izaya's head suddenly reeled back and shot forward as he sneezed, the swivel chair rocking with him. With his head pressed against the desk to soothe the ache, he blindly grabbed for the tissue box. He barely noticed Namie suddenly standing in front of him and pulling open his phone.

"Fine. Who am I calling?"

"Shinra." A sound not unlike the soft roar of an elephant sounded into the kleenex.

"You're not planning on going anywhere right now, are you?"

Izaya shot her a weak and incredulous look. "Namie-chan, I can survive just as well on my own, but it's wonderful to see you worried about me for a change." By now, Namie had found the doctor's name in his contacts and had the phone pressed to her ear.

"That's not what I meant."

Izaya didn't bother to listen to her conversation with Shinra as he felt another sneeze coming on, building and building until it burned unbearably, but the onslaught never came, and somehow this was worse than the actual event would have been. He hit his forehead to the desk, opened his eyes and stared at his feet and stick-thin calves. He _really_ did _not _need a sick diet right now.

The informant also failed to notice the door to his office open and close. Suddenly two faces appeared at the front edge of his desk, and he raised his head to squint at the pair. Only one of them smiled brightly.

"Nii-san, are you ready?"

"Go _(let's go)_."

"What…?"

Mairu frowned comically and pulled at his hand. "Oh, don't tell me!"

"Forgot _(you forgot, didn't you?)_" As if to mimic a mirror image not quite exact, Kururi reached for his other hand and tugged gently.

Namie snapped the phone closed and placed it on Izaya's desk. "You promised to spend some time with your sisters."

Izaya furrowed his brow, trying to recall when he'd… "I made no such promise."

"I was there when they asked you. I put it in your calendar, even though you never bother to check it."

Izaya massaged the bridge of his nose. "Mairu, Kururi, I can't play today, your brother has a bad cold and is very tired."

"Promise _(you promised)_."

"Yeah, you promised, Iza-nii!"

At this point, he might actually try that chicken soup sushi. Izaya tried to wave them away, but his hands were tied. He looked to Namie for help, but she turned back to her work with the smallest increment of a smirk. "What are you looking at _me _for? My only job is to do mindless tasks and make your stupid phone calls."

"Namie…" he seethed.

"Why don't you take them with you?" Namie suggested innocently. Izaya balked and, somehow, seemed to grow paler than his skin already was.

"No."

"With you?"

"Ooh! Take us with you where?"

Izaya stood suddenly, as if to display his strength, only to stagger and sway a little, almost tripping past his chair. He grabbed his jacket and tugged teasingly on one of Mairu's braids. "Hurry up if you're going to tag along. I have to go to Shinra's to pick up a prescription for this damn disease."

"Sweet! A field trip!"

Kururi smiled a little, then took Izaya's hand as Mairu latched onto the other. They practically dragged his listless form out the front door, loudly thanking Namie enough to worsen the informant's headache.

Shizuo spotted them the minute they entered the plaza.

The two were practically sled dogs pulling Izaya trippingly through the street. The blond was sure that without them he'd probably be fine with collapsing onto the crosswalk and sleeping there for the night. Izaya suddenly stopped, yanking the girls back, and sneezed, rocking back on his heels and hanging his head. His sisters tried to pull him again, but he seemed reluctant. Two shrill voices carried far to Shizuo's ears.

"Iza-nii, come on! You don't wanna get run over, do you?"

"Dangerous _(this is dangerous)._"

Izaya's eyes were red and watering, and he could barely make out the white lines in the asphalt beneath his feet. Tipping his head forward was only making him dizzier, like he was standing at the edge of a building and just a centimeter more would plunge him to oblivion. Izaya only just managed to stay on his toes.

_This is going to look weird._

"Let's go, Iza-nii!"

"Faster _(the faster we go the faster we'll get there)._"

They pulled him rather unsuccessfully, only moving him a couple inches before he stopped again. The crosswalk light turned from green to red.

_Oh hell._

The girls jumped out of their skin as Shizuo approached unexpectedly from behind. Izaya brought his head up and froze, red eyes as wide as they could go right now. The string along the ground, pulsating faintly, served as a constant reminder now, but he couldn't let the traffic kill Izaya — that was _his _job.

"I told you not to get sick."

Izaya stared at him for a few awkward seconds before hanging his head again in a short, weak snort of laughter. He placed his hands on his knees and wobbled. Then he watched as Shizuo quarter-turned away and stared at him through his peripherals.

"Well? Get on."

Mairu and Kururi looked on with anticipation, looking to them and then to one another. Cars were blaring at them now, insisting that Izaya and Shizuo get moving before _they _did. Izaya blinked a few times, wondering if this was a hallucination. No, more like a dream — even if it was Shizuo, the informant was suffering enough to deter his ability to walk normally, so without a word he clambered exhaustedly onto the blond's back. Shizuo hooked his hands under Izaya's knees as Izaya flung his arms around Shizuo's neck.

"Where are we going?"

"Shinra's," Izaya mumbled hoarsely into his shoulder. They were getting quite a few stares now, mostly disbelieving looks of the two in close proximity _not to mention physical contact _without going at each other's throats. Those who had them were taking cell phone pictures and texting their friends excitedly. Mairu and Kururi followed in tow, watching the pair carefully.

Izaya took his hand away from Shizuo's vest for a moment to rub his nose. Shizuo said nothing for most of the trip, only curt one-word answers when the twins badgered him about getting to meet Kasuka. It was only until they were a mere block away from the underground doctor's home when Shizuo noticed how Izaya's previous choke-hold on him had considerably slackened.

"Izaya."

There was no reply. Shizuo craned his neck to look; Izaya's head was rested heavily against his shoulder and his eyes were closed. The blond could feel short, labored breaths delicately meeting his skin. He sniffed softly, and Shizuo looked away quickly, trying to think of any other way to explain the light pink dusting his cheeks.

"You'd better not get me sick."


	17. Chapter 17

The twins ran in ahead of them and knocked on Shinra's door. It was Celty who answered, and in confusion she tilted her neck where her head might be. Shizuo followed a little while after them, Izaya draped limply on his back and almost falling off. As they got inside, Shizuo dropped Izaya's slack form onto the sofa, which started to wake up the informant.

His eyes creaked open slowly and painfully, still achy from the sneezing, as he sat up and looked for the nearest box of tissues. When he saw that there were none, he looked around only to have his eyes fall on a certain blond who was raiding Shinra's fridge for milk.

"Ah~ Shizu-chan must be my Knight in Shining Armor!~" Izaya grinned smugly, turning his body to face him over the back of the couch. Shizuo ignored him, finally taking the milk carton, finding it nearly empty anyway, and chugging down the rest of it. As he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a thin trail of white, honey-brown eyes flitted in his direction.

Annoyance, but only mild.

Celty passed by and told Izaya that Shinra was out but would be on his way immediately. Izaya but only glanced at the message but all the while kept his stare on Shizuo, who seemed determined to block out his presence entirely.

His sisters were glued to the blond's side, making his temporary visit at Shinra's the best it could ever be, pampering him with their ulterior motives solely in mind. Mairu took the empty carton and went to throw it out, while Kururi offered more milk, which Shizuo declined wordlessly. Izaya watched the trio silently and let his mind wander, imagination making him wonder how they would be acting if they didn't know of Shizuo's relation to Yuuhei Hanejima.

"I might thank you one day, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo turned a little, brows furrowed behind sunglasses when Izaya wasn't where he'd left him. "Ah?"

"_Might._ I said," came his voice from the bathroom, and in the next moment he emerged with a box of tissues — his trophy, his prize. The sneezing had gone down for now, thankfully, though his eyes still felt stiff and hazy. "Could be tomorrow, could be in a week, could be in a few minutes. But _might._"

Shizuo turned away, taking the clean glass from Kururi's hands and placing it back in a shelf that the girl couldn't reach on her own.

"Why?"

Izaya beamed, taking his position on the couch again by hopping over the back. His near-violent landing was almost enough to trigger another headache.

"Of course, I'll owe you back."

"What?"

"That's my trade, you know." Izaya blew his nose almost daintily, crumpled the tissue and began a pile. "The information I give must equal what I receive in return. The same goes for vice versa."

Shizuo remained silent, and merely placed his hands on the counter and hunched forward in a tensely thoughtful stretch.

Izaya's smile grew wider. "…Shizu-chan, don't pretend you know what 'vice versa' means—"

"I know full well—"

"Shizu-chan, look at me."

With some stiffness about it, Shizuo finally turned to face him. Izaya had one elbow propped on the back of the couch as he craned his neck in the blond's direction. For now, the informant's confidence overrode his malady. He cocked an eyebrow and gave him a sardonic smirk.

"See– now that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

It was only with a great deal of concentration that someone would have noticed Shizuo's body tense up just slightly, and luckily for him Izaya was using his peripherals. Shizuo suddenly circled out of the kitchen, waved goodbye to Celty and headed out the door. Izaya was left blinking and confused, and the second the door slammed behind Shizuo, Izaya sneezed.


	18. Chapter 18

"At least I have you."

A nose twitched, making Izaya freeze for a moment, but it settled again. Those big eyes settled on him once more, innocent and nonjudgmental.

"Don't worry, I love you no matter what." Izaya placed a few fingers to his chest. "You'll always have a special place in my cold, congested heart. But everyone else is avoiding me like… well, like the _plague…_"

A pair of ears seemed to perk up. Izaya quickly thought of a cover.

"Ah, I mean… well, you won't catch it! Because I'm almost better, see?" Izaya snorted loudly. "See? My nose is almost cleared up, I can taste things again!"

A head turned away, then back to him, inspecting him once over as if in evaluation. Izaya stayed perfectly still throughout. A blink.

"What am I doing," Izaya scoffed, turning his gaze to the sidewalk and hanging his head. "For goodness sake, I'm talking to a cat…"

_'Mrow~'_

Izaya couldn't help but stare at it, watching the creature regard him with indifference, curiosity, and kindness all in one. Izaya sat up a little and patted his thigh, unfolding his legs until they were almost crossed. It took a good long moment of coaxing the cat — he used high-pitched sweet nothings (which sounded horrible in a voice coated thickly with sick), made kissing noises, tried demanding, then went back to nearly begging. Finally, the cat stood off its haunches and hopped into his lap.

A warm smile crept to his face as, with caution, he started to stroke its mottled neck. Its purr reverberated into his chest and stomach. That pair of bright brown eyes came up to scan him over, and it was with a startling revelation and a catch in his throat that Izaya realized who those eyes reminded him of.

* * *

><p>Shizuo ran a hand through his hair as he stalked around Ikebukuro. He was trying to avoid Izaya by any means necessary, though he knew that, at some point, Izaya would corner him, annoy him, badger him about his recent odd behavior. Shizuo's mind worked through a whirlwind of excuses, only for each one to come up short.<p>

Not to mention Shizuo was a terrible liar.

And trying to tell a blatant lie to the man most likely the King of Deception — it wouldn't end well. He could see the twinkle in Izaya's eyes now, even as he thought about it, how Izaya would curl the tips of his mouth into a smirk and make stab after stab with the words that jumped from his tongue. Shizuo would not only never get away with it, but he'd never hear the end of it.

Shizuo tried making his way into a more secluded part of the city, with hopes that it wasn't somewhere Izaya normally visited. But of course, Shizuo had to be wrong.

He froze at the sight he saw before him: Izaya, with his back to the wall, holding a cat before his face. They seemed to be having some sort of staring contest, only for Izaya to blink and burst into laughter.

"Haha! Neko-chan won this time!~" Though the cat only stared at him, unable to understand what was going on, and simply let Izaya handle it. Izaya brought it closer and touched his nose to the cat's, closing his eyes and bearing a smile Shizuo thought he'd never see. Shizuo slowly pressed his body closer to the wall nearest him, hoping to slip away without notice and hoping Izaya couldn't hear the deafening thump thump thump in his ears.

Izaya sneezed suddenly, having enough foresight to turn away from the cat for a moment. He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Neko-chan, I really hope I'm not allergic to you."

Neko-chan mewled and pawed at the fur on his jacket.

The pounding in his chest, the heat rising to his cheeks, the labored breathing, dizziness — it was dangerous. Shizuo managed to peel himself around the wall and, once he was out of Izaya's sight, backed away a few meters. Fumbling in his pockets, Shizuo found his cellphone and prayed that someone would answer.

"Shizuo! What's up?"

"Shinra…"

Shizuo peeked over, but Izaya seemed to be gone now. The cat sat in his wake and looked on after him. He breathed a short sigh of relief and doubled over a little.

"I think I'm having a heart attack."


	19. Chapter 19

The next day, Shizuo found himself unusually restless. He'd already smoked close to twenty-two cigarettes and it was barely 6 pm. Throughout the afternoon, he tapped his foot nervously if they weren't walking anywhere or looked about as if it were halloween and he was expecting a ghost to pop around the corner at any second. Taking his pack out of his pocket, he frowned when he realized there were only a few sticks left. After each job, Shizuo appeared distracted.

"You look tense."

Shizuo glanced down at his boss, who was looking back at him with a nonchalant expression. The blond tried to relax himself, but to no avail, only able to settle his shoulders from their rigid state.

"Sorry, Tom-san."

"Don't be sorry," he said with a small smile. "But I think you need to unwind, Shizuo."

Shizuo scratched his cheek anxiously, looking off to the side. He was starting to like the idea — anything to get his mind off the flea– _who had **not** been on his mind all day, definitely not._ "Well, how do I do that?"

"When's the last time you went out, Shizuo?"

"What, like outside? Here?"

Tom laughed. "No, I mean _out_. You know, having fun, drinking. _Out_."

Shizuo thought for a moment, then turned back to him and said hesitantly, "I used to bartend for a while…"

"That doesn't count," Tom stated with a frown. "Come on, we're going out. Out out."

When Tom took his hand and pulled him to the nearest street corner, Shizuo simply followed along like a lost puppy on a leash. Sure, Shizuo had worked in bars before, but he'd never been _in_ them. Not to mention he didn't care for beer. Tom ordered for them, settling on letting Shizuo order a strawberry daiquiri instead. After his first few sips Shizuo's memory was starting to miss pieces here and there, as he moved from place to place with little recollection of how he'd gotten there.

And Tom was right — he _was_ beginning to let himself relax. Izaya had completely left his mind (except for two times, one where he mistook a short black-haired man for the informant and another when he saw a young woman wearing a fur-trimmed jacket). At some point during the night Shizuo glanced back at their seats at the bar and merely acknowledged briefly the four empty daiquiri glasses and the quickly-diminishing one in his hands now. Navigating the yellow plastic straw to his mouth was also proving difficult.

"You having a good time?" Tom leaned close to ask him over the music; he smelled like beer and washed-out cologne. Shizuo nodded a little. Most of their stay was already becoming a blur, and all Shizuo could remember were bits and pieces of daring women approaching him and Tom laughing and muttering "virgin" as the blond awkwardly tried to return their flirting. At some point, Tom had gotten a girl's number.

Suddenly it was almost midnight. Tom draped an arm over his shoulder and brought him out of the bar. The undulating music died down behind them until it was muted by the closing doors. Tom stretched as Shizuo rubbed his eyes, realizing his sunglasses were missing but unable to bring himself to care.

"Did it help?"

"Sure," Shizuo mumbled, swaying.

"Good. Well, have a nice night, Shizuo."

Tom waved goodbye and went on his way. Shizuo didn't really know what to do with himself. His ears were still ringing as he started down the street, ambling mindlessly and unsure of where he was going. He followed his thread for a while, the carmine string pulsing and doubling hazily in his vision.

It was when he reached a certain building that a few flashes returned to his memory. He knew he'd been here before, but what for? Struggling not to fall back, Shizuo craned his neck, trying to see the top of the building.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Shizuo invited himself into the building and made his way up.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews and comments~!**

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><p>As if by magic, Shizuo made it to the rooftop door with only a few stumbles and slips on his way up the stairs and into the elevator. The building seemed abandoned, and everyone had probably already gone home. The dimness of the lobby and highest floor hindered his ability to walk correctly. He reached the door and tried in vain not to think about the 'string of fate'.<p>

The cool metal of the handle shocked his fingers as he opened the door. There was a sudden rush of air that settled to the cool breeze outside. More details were coming into focus — a small hip-high structure, maybe a generator, an inconspicuous drain on the floor, and the half-foot-tall ledge. Shizuo left the door ajar behind him and stepped to the center of the vast rooftop.

Only the ruby string around his pinky finger reminded him that he wasn't alone.

Images of Izaya flooded back, and without warning from the restrictive centers of his brain, Shizuo stepped onto the ledge. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him to get down, but Shizuo closed his eyes instead, letting the wind comb through his hair and push easily through his clothes. He slid them open again, dim brown revealed but clouded by alcohol. He swayed a bit but kept his bearings. Shizuo glanced at the ground far below and wondered what might happen —

One.

Little.

Step.

Would he dislocate more than just his shoulders? Would he break a bone or two this time? Would he start to bleed?

Would he die this time?

_who would come save me this time_

heart quickening, pulse pounding, and his head is starting to hurt

he's feeling numb, but anesthesia won't work, morphine fails him

what ails you, Shizuo?

Shizuo didn't know how much time had passed when he felt a small tug on his finger. With a bit more conscious care, he turned. A familiar thin, black figure stood behind him.

"Hey Shizu-chan."

The informant was surprised when he was met with blank indifference. He faintly noticed a small look of shock and near-anger flicker across his face, but it was gone as soon as it had come.

"Oh, excuse me — I'm interrupting! Please, by all means, continue."

Shizuo was trying to focus his vision on Izaya, who laughed softly and shuffled his feet. It was like Shizuo didn't recognize him– or rather, he _did_, but couldn't believe his own eyes, didn't _want_to recognize him.

"Do you need help?" He moved forward, almost seeming to glide across the rooftop.

One. Little. Step.

One.

Little.

Push.

Izaya cracked a smile on thin lips as he smelled strong alcohol on Shizuo's breath. He'd never taken him for a drunkard, but of course it seemed like something the beast might do one day. No wonder Shizuo was acting so oddly. No wonder he hadn't lunged for his throat yet, or growled in acknowledgement of the proximity of his mere existence.

One little push, and Shizuo might plunge to his death.

_what he's always wanted_

He played the scene in his head a few times, imagining how he would fall, wondering if he would have the will now to survive. Izaya came closer to Shizuo, raising a hand and hovering it by his cheek. Shizuo stared back mutely at a match of red in those narrow eyes.

"Do _I_ have be the one to chase _you _down, Shizu-chan?"

_it's so close, right there_

it burns

he's here

Shizuo's eyes snapped open and he involuntarily staggered back into nothing, falling back, Izaya's fingers brushing his face, and Izaya's breath hitched in the frozen moment.

_"Shizu-chan!"_


	21. Chapter 21

Images flashed through his mind in that one second.

The first, of himself and Tom at the bar, and all the details he'd missed like the lighter tinge of his third daiquiri and the sports scores being broadcast on the television behind the bartender. A second image of Toms hand on his back, patting him reassuringly at the end of his first day working for his senior.

A third image, as he looked on, Kasuka at his side, watching the woman in the bakery clean the windows and open the blinds. Another followed, of himself congratulating Kasuka on getting a major role in the sequel of a hit movie.

A fifth of the demolished school field spanning out in front of him, and turning around to face an ever-smiling Shinra. _He gestures to the space beside him and seems to be moving his lips, but there is no sound_

A high school dance, colors swirling and pulsating around them, Kadota standing before him with a soda in hand. Shinra pushing his way through the crowd and walking toward them excitedly, _his hand is extended out behind him, as if he was pulling someone after himself_

Two girls joined to the hip with him was a seventh image. They seemed to be questioning him, but just as before, there was no sound, _only silence, and a light weight presses down on his back, but as he tries to turn around, the girls and street disappear, and a lone cat in an empty alleyway stares down the vermillion string curling across the path_

there's something about this place

A touch forced him out of his momentary trance. It took his hand, his wrist, and Shizuo found himself touching back. It pulled his body, lax against the night air, bringing his feet back to solid ground. He fell forward limply, but Izaya managed to catch him in a drunken standing position.

The blond's heart raced, hammering away at his chest like a nail, driving further and further; if he'd had any less drinks, it might've been enough to sober him up. Izaya was also trying to catch his breath, wide-eyed and shaking slightly. He struggled to push the blond off and stand more stably, but Shizuo was still leaning on him for support.

_what made me do that?_

_why did I help him?_

"Sorry," he muttered. Shizuo dropped his head on Izaya's shoulder, making the informant go rigid. He fingered the flickblade in his pocket, ready to take it out and plunge it into Shizuo's stomach at a moment's notice. But Shizuo didn't make a move to hurt him, or any move at all. His breathing steadied against him.

_but I've always wanted to see you die_

_say something before I slip away again_

"You're heavy, Shizu-chan," Izaya quipped bravely. When he got no response, he sighed and took his hand off the blade and around Shizuo's back. "You didn't beat me when I was down, so I'm only returning the favor. But you'd better be grateful."

Izaya managed to push Shizuo up, but the blond swayed unsteadily. The informant scoffed, running a hand back through midnight tresses that blended into the starry backdrop. "You're useless. What am I ever going to do with you, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo mumbled something he couldn't hear. He was lost in his own thoughts, in those flashbacks. That missing person… it could only have been Izaya. So why, in his time of near-death, did Izaya disappear from his life?

It had seemed…

_empty_

_without him_

"This is the only other favor I'm going to do for you. That's it." In aggravation from Shizuo's unusual apathetic attitude, Izaya took his hand and pulled him to the door that led downstairs, trying not to think about how warm the blond's hand was against his own.

__Déjà vu is the right hand of Fate.__

_Humans most often associate with the familiar. No matter how far they travel, how far they stray, they always manage to return to a place they've been before. Déjà vu, whether they know it or not, takes their hand and leads them to these places so that Fate can step in to do its job._

_And who knows? Maybe, when one returns to a place they've been a thousand times — maybe they'll notice something they never noticed before._

_…Humans are fascinating in that way, aren't they?_

"Come on. Shinra's sure to have room for one more guest."

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><p><strong>urgh, there was supposed to be strikethrough text but FF . net doesn't support that I guess? darn.<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**Sooo sorry. I meant to post earlier but FF wasn't working, and then I forgot lol. Hope this makes up for it!**

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><p>Shizuo didn't remember much of the walk until they were standing in the elevator and on their way to Shinra's floor. Izaya stood beside him, hands deep in his pockets as, brow furrowed, he stared concentratedly on a small dent in the elevator door. He bent his knees rapidly, alternating, a nervousness that Shizuo would have picked up on if the alcohol weren't still clouding his system.<p>

As they stepped inside Shinra's, Izaya glanced at him once, then looked away. The rooms were dim but not quite pitch black. Several new-looking machines were scattered in the living room and across the couch.

"Shinra put in a small hospital room. I've taken the guest room."

Shizuo followed him into the hallway; the first door they passed must have been the guest room, because Izaya chose then to slip his coat off, throw it inside, and grab a change of clothes. He patted the wall of the next room. Shizuo was greeted with a sight he recalled all too well from his childhood. The bed was full-size, with plain white sheets and a wooden bed frame. A simple lamp and a few bottles adorned the bedside table, and opposite was a window through which moonlight filtered in between cracks between the drapes.

Shizuo turned to Izaya, but the informant was already inside the bathroom, closing with a light click. A bright yellow line illuminated the threshold underneath the door.

The blond made his way to the bed and slipped under the sheets, caring less about changing out of his uniform. Mind blank, Shizuo didn't have to think too much for the daiquiris put him to sleep rather quickly.

* * *

><p>Izaya hit the shower tile for the eighth time, but the result was only a wet smack and a shuddering pain in the side of his hand – unlike Shizuo, who could probably have taken out the whole wall in one go. Hot water raced through his hair, down his back, ran in veins down pale thin legs. He was feeling sick now in more ways than one.<p>

_How could he have been so **stupid**?_

He washed his hair almost furiously, cursing when a few soap suds burned his eyes. The bubbles soon dissolved and swirled about the drain.

He'd let his guard down. He had allowed himself to care, even just a little bit, for Shizuo. But Shizuo was a monster, and he wasn't supposed to care. He was supposed to rejoice in Shizuo's death, whenever that happened to come around, not save him just when he'd had the chance to let him fall.

Izaya thought he would be able to completely detach himself from the idea of death, using every way possible: manipulation, assisted suicides, _anything_so that he wouldn't have to feel pain. But in that instant, in that split second when Shizuo almost fell from the roof…

He'd almost stopped breathing then and there.

In truth, Izaya realized that there wouldn't be much to do if Shizuo wasn't in his life – he might move to another city, he might find a new target for his "affections," or he might mess around with the color gangs and the Dollars until everything blew up around him.

Where would he be, in the end?

Izaya hadn't given much thought into the idea of growing old. He assumed he'd be "forever twenty-one," eternally unaging and always ahead of the times and ahead of the information.

But Izaya was only human.

Izaya twisted the dial, and the shower slowed to a stop, warmth leaving him alone and bare in the steam.


	23. Chapter 23

Izaya emerged from the bathroom in a pair of pajamas he'd earlier borrowed from Celty — black with a few touches of pink hearts, probably a gift from her 'lover'. He rubbed his hair dry with a small towel around his neck, cleaning the moisture from his ears and forehead.

On the way to the guest room, he paused at Shizuo's door. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, motionless, head hanging forward. Izaya sighed and approached him slowly, bare feet on the hardwood pattering like soft rain.

"Shizu-chan."

The blond failed to acknowledge him.

"Are you having trouble sleeping?"

No reaction. Izaya puffed his cheeks out, growing annoyed and wondering if what he himself felt now was only a fraction of how Shizuo felt whenever he saw him in Ikebukuro – at least, when sober. Now, as he stood right in front of him, Izaya was starting to think that Shizuo really wasn't human. Other humans might get happy, or sad, or angry when drunk, but Shizuo— no, Shizuo reverted to some sort of quiet, inner self that the informant had never seen before. He took Shizuo's face in his hands and brought his head up so that those glassy brown orbs met his, then took his towel and draped it around Shizuo's neck. The blond let Izaya draw him in by his grip on the towel.

Izaya felt like crying.

"Stop it."

Shizuo's eyes were half-lid and groggy, barely able to stay open, as his head lay limply in Izaya's hands.

"I said stop it. Stop looking at me like that."

It was like a lightbulb had gone off, all of a sudden. Izaya knew exactly how to fix himself — he needed to win, needed to get ahead again. He needed a victory on the scoreboard, just one, to at least tie with Shizuo rather than tagging along behind him.

So slowly, a time that seemed to last for hours, Izaya leaned in and pressed his lips to Shizuo's.

It was a simple kiss, lips closed and barely brushing, Izaya's hands cupping his face more gently than even he himself thought he could manage. Shizuo's eyes widened a little for only a second, before fluttering closed. It was only a minuscule movement, but Izaya noticed Shizuo pressing his lips back nevertheless.

Izaya pulled away, sliding his eyes open. He plucked the towel from Shizuo's shoulders and let it drop to the floor, its sound making the only noise in the quiet room. Izaya then hooked his thumbs under the hem of the pajama pants and pulled them down, stepping out as they pooled at his feet. Lower body bare and just nearly covered by the top of the pajamas, Izaya braced his knees on the edge of the bed and pulled himself up onto Shizuo's lap.

Shizuo let Izaya ease him back onto the bed, and from there Izaya placed his elbows at either side of the blond's head and leaned down to take his lips again. It was slightly more open, lips moving this time against one another, still careful and soft.

_What's going through his mind right now?_Izaya pondered, arching his back to gently grind his hips down against Shizuo's, feeling the blond shiver under him. Either Shizuo was so drunk that he didn't recognize him, or he had finally submitted himself to the smouldering flame of his unique irises— Izaya liked to think it was the latter, but as he softly molded his mouth to Shizuo's lips, tasting strong alcohol and overpowering sweetness, he assumed it was the former.

Izaya parted and sat up, lower bodies hovering mere inches away from each other. As he started to unbutton the shirt, Shizuo leaned forward, unbuttoning and removing his own shirt as they kissed again. The pajama shirt fell to meet the pants on the floor, while Shizuo's lay crumpled on the other side of the bed. Izaya took the browning roots behind Shizuo's ears into his thin fingers and ran them through. Their bare chests brushed, heat swimming through both of them as Izaya gradually introduced his tongue into the blond's mouth, and he whimpered deliberately when he felt Shizuo's hand tentatively brush his naked side.

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><p><strong>Yes. Porn. If you don't like, well, this is from the kink meme. You should've known what you were getting into!<strong>


	24. Chapter 24

Izaya found a source of friction in Shizuo's lap and ground his hips down, trembling at the sensation. He gasped and dipped his head into the crook of the blond's neck, hands still running through his hair and tracing the upper vertebrae, as he peppered the skin with light, fluttery kisses. A short, low noise escaped from deep within Shizuo's throat when Izaya's nimble fingers made quick work of his belt and button. The metallic clinks echoed in the room, silent save for a small moan from the informant as Shizuo began to touch him back.

As soon as the pants came off, Shizuo gently coaxed Izaya's back to the bed, crawling over him and capturing his lips again. Izaya could tell immediately that Shizuo was less than experienced, but the taste of his mouth and thumbs tracing his sides shoved the thought away. He arched into Shizuo's light, uncharacteristic caresses, until Izaya felt as though his skin were pleasantly burning.

Breath escaping him, he tore their lips apart and swallowed, tipping his head back into the pillows as Shizuo preoccupied himself with Izaya's collar bone. The bright blond tips of his tresses torturously tickled the informant's neck and ears, eliciting a soft whine. He gripped the sheets behind his head and rolled his lower body into Shizuo's, coercing him to another point of focus.

Like Izaya was treating Shizuo as if _he_were the fragile one.

Shizuo pulled Izaya closer and responded by kneading their arousals together, the blond's own trapped by a pair of blue boxer shorts. Coming down from a violent shiver, Izaya took one hand away from the sheets and reached down to slip past the waistband.

Shizuo stiffened, then relaxed, breathing in short and out deeply, air burning on Izaya's ear. Izaya pushed into the nape of Shizuo's neck, bringing their lips to mold together again. He lapped at the blond's tongue and moaned erotically into his mouth.

As Izaya removed his hand from the boxers and Shizuo helped him pull them down, the blond rolled his hips into Izaya's and groaned, brows knitted together and teeth bared.

"A-ah!"

Izaya wrapped his legs around Shizuo's back and did the same with his arms, gripping the skin enough to leave marks later. As Shizuo kissed him again, tongue running across the other's lower lip, Izaya mewled and pressed his arousal back into the blond's. He felt large, calloused hands cup his face and draw him closer as if it were any more possible. Izaya's fingers raced over Shizuo's shoulders and down to his chest, pressing up until they parted.

Izaya stretched around to the bedside table and grabbed one of the bottles of lotion. _This will do_. He pumped a good-sized amount within his fingers and reached down to his own entrance, his legs wide. But before he could do much more, Shizuo spread some of the lotion from Izaya's hand and took over, pressing a finger inside.

"Wait– nngh…" Izaya felt his breath quickening and growing louder as his mind reeled from the feeling of Shizuo's fingers gingerly spreading him open. Soft moist lips found his chest and sucked until he left a bruising mark. This was bad — Izaya knew he was starting to lose himself. With his hand still coated in lotion, Izaya palmed Shizuo's erection and stroked tenderly, causing the man above him to moan against his skin and remove his fingers with a wet sound.

As Shizuo pressed the head of his arousal to Izaya's opening, the informant's breath hitched and he closed his eyes.

"Shizu…"

But just in time, he caught himself.

"Shizuo…"


	25. Chapter 25

Shizuo sunk in a few inches before pausing to exhale the breath he'd been holding in. Izaya gasped, trying to hold in a loud moan as the blond settled almost directly on his prostate. He took Shizuo's face into his hands and kissed him deeply in an effort to muffle a short groan when he shifted his hips. Warmth pooled in his abdomen, and Shizuo decided to pull out a little only to push in further.

Their lips stayed glued together, each breathing into the other; Izaya's head was already swimming enough to put most of everything else out of focus. He started to massage Shizuo's scalp with his fingertips, encouraging him to move in more. Silently, he obeyed, and Izaya's jaw slackened under Shizuo's lips.

"Ha!" he gasped vocally as Shizuo's hands grabbed the backs of his thighs, unusually gently, pushing his legs down further and hooking one over his shoulder. The motion sunk Shizuo even deeper into him, and Izaya cried out again, pulling a little on Shizuo's locks and bucking his hips. He never dared to take his mouth from the blond's— silence could be his best asset in this situation, but somehow he couldn't contain himself now. Maybe the alcohol on Shizuo's lips was affecting him now, getting him just slightly drunk.

Yes, that was it.

Izaya whimpered as Shizuo began to move faster. The bed began to creak a little under their weight, protesting quietly. But Shizuo was still going at a painfully slow pace, and he wished he could tell Shizuo that he didn't have to worry about breaking him.

But now would not be a good time for Shizuo to recognize him.

Izaya gasped a quiet "there" suddenly, mouth hanging wide open. Shizuo licked and sucked on his lower lip until Izaya complied and returned to their kiss, breathless and dazed. He undulated his hips to meet Shizuo's thrusts, trying to speed him up, but the blond ignored his attempts and remained at a consistent rate. And yet still, he found himself coming close already.

It wasn't as if Izaya had never imagined what it would be like to have sex with the brute– in fact, he thought about it often, never acting on it because he didn't think Shizuo would go for such a drastic change in their relationship. But he'd always thought Shizuo would be the type to thrust him into the wall of an alleyway, or hold his throat tightly during sex as he turned animalistic, or refuse to kiss him. At least tonight, Shizuo was gentle and considerate, and whether or not he knew it was his worst enemy, Izaya was enjoying it.

"Hahnn.. Shi.. ha- har…der… ah…mm- mo…."

Izaya had resorted to mumbling incoherently into Shizuo's lips now. He writhed beneath him, letting himself go and feeling the warm pleasure shiver up his spine as Shizuo took Izaya's arousal and touched it lightly. Izaya's leg tightened over his shoulder and with a tall arch of his back he came, toes curling, as he molded his lips to Shizuo's mouth to stifle a cry.

It was only after both had settled and he unwound his arms, the blond lying listlessly asleep on top of him, that Izaya realized he had been clinging to Shizuo for dear life.


	26. Chapter 26

Shizuo awoke the next morning to the smell of smoke.

His eyes cracked open to see a bedside table and a plain white wall. He twisted up from face-down, wondering how he'd even managed to breathe. His entire body ached and the morning light was worsening his headache. As he emerged from the bedsheets, the warmth disappeared, making way for the cool, dry air. Shizuo rubbed his eyes and groaned.

_Where am I?_

Shizuo tried to piece together the previous night, starting at the first place he remembered. Tom had wanted him to relax, and took him to a place called Freedom Bar or something… what had happened from there?

And that dream… Shizuo shuddered at the thought of it.

A bright movement off to the side caught his eye. Shizuo blinked rapidly to make sure he wasn't just hallucinating, but the red string was right there as not-so-solid proof. He nearly jumped out of bed, only to look down and realize it would turn into a compromising situation. Shizuo pulled the sheets back up over his lower body.

Izaya was standing at the open window, staring down at the street below. A cigarette— _one of my last ones,_Shizuo thought with resentment— lay loosely between his fingers. The morning breeze filtered through his hair as the younger man leaned his elbows on the sill and sighed contentedly. Most of this, however, wasn't the problem.

Izaya was wearing nothing but a shirt.

…Izaya was wearing nothing but _Shizuo's_shirt.

As Izaya took a drag from the cigarette, he all too quickly noticed that Shizuo had woken up and was now staring just below the hem of the shirt, where it fell to only barely cover down to the top of the thigh. He smirked, vermillion irises dancing, and giggled, making Shizuo's head snap up. Izaya spun from the window and thrust his arms out, and Shizuo was thankful that the shirt was at least buttoned.

"Ohayo, sleepyhead!~"

He reached behind him to tap the cigarette ashes on the window sill. Shizuo was still left with his mouth wide open in shock.

"Man, I have to say, you went out like a light. Or a rock. A very heavy rock. Do you know how long it took for me to push you off? I almost couldn't breathe!"

Shizuo recoiled when Izaya propped himself up on the bed and started to crawl towards him, but stopped and sat on his knees, leaning in too close for comfort. His eyes slid half-closed as his grin only grew wider and sent Shizuo's heart plummeting further.

"Of course, that wasn't the only thing that had me _breathless_last night, Shizu-chan~"

The word came out as a quiet moan, sending a shiver up Shizuo's spine. Izaya stared him down for a few moments before bursting into laughter, clutching his sides and practically rolling on the bed. "You should see your face! Oh god, you're as pink as a slice of ootoro!"

Shizuo's look of embarrassment shifted into a glare. "Stop fucking around, flea. What's going on?"

"Does Shizu-chan not remember?" Izaya turned back and danced his fingers up Shizuo's bare chest. "Oh, this is priceless! And to think I might've marked this date in my diary as one of the best lays I ever had~"

It was at this moment that Shizuo's eyes stupidly wandered down to Izaya's bare thighs, creamy white, thin, and totally unblemished. He had to admit that Izaya looked amazing in that shirt– _stop it, that's_ my _fucking shirt!_

"Like what you see?" he goaded in a sultry, confident tone.

"Like hell!" Shizuo grabbed the cigarette from Izaya's fingers and popped it into his mouth, got out of the hospital bed to find his pants, and hoped the nicotine would calm him down. Of course, Izaya was always there to be his anti-drug.

"Oh! An indirect kiss!~" He began to laugh with malicious glee and clapped his hands together. "I like sharing! don't you, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo froze just as his pants were buttoned and he was reaching down for his belt. The grin started to fade from Izaya's lips. Shizuo sighed, voice low and hoarse.

"Last night… did we really…"

Shizuo jolted suddenly, feeling a pair of arms wrap about his neck from behind. "We really did, Shizu-chan, and it was ~*amazing*~. I'd say 'call me,' but I think you already have my number, ne?"

_But… it had been a dream, hadn't it?_

"Shit." After a few seconds had passed, Shizuo turned, forcing his stare away from the informant's body, and grabbed a slip of the oxford. "Give me my fucking shirt back."

Izaya's arms stayed straight on his shoulders as his eyes glinted dangerously and he fingered the buttons. "Already up for another round, Shizu-chan? My, isn't this a pleasant surprise~"

Shizuo's face went red, but he composed himself and growled. "I said. Give me. my fucking. shirt. _back._"

Izaya sighed, pouting and reaching for the pajama shirt lying haphazardly on the floor. As Shizuo turned, he replaced Shizuo's shirt for the other. The blond tore it from his hands. "Aw, Shizu-chan's no fun."

"Listen to me." Shizuo lowered himself to Izaya's level, narrowing his eyes, jaw clenching, as he roughly pulled the shirt on. "Last night was _not _supposed to happen."

"What do you mean by that?" he taunted, laughing mockingly. "Shit isn't _supposed_ to happen, it just _does_."

"But there's fate, and things can't be avoi—"

"FATE!" Izaya laughed harder than Shizuo had ever seen him laugh. Tears were coming to his eyes, his sides hurt, he almost couldn't breathe anymore. "Fate? Are you kidding me? The monster, the legendary Heiwajima Shizuo of 'Bukuro, believes in fate! This day just keeps getting better and better!"

"I'm serious, flea—"

"Fate is a fairytale, Shizu-chan." Izaya reached down for the pajama pants and slipped them up his legs. "What would be the point of life if it ended the same way no matter what? That's not amusing at all. And if anything, I must be the antagonist to fate. My life's work is collecting information and changing the game board. My job would mean nothing if I wasted my time moving the pieces around all day, only for one side to win regardless of my moves. Fate doesn't exist, Shizu-chan. For my own sake– and let's hope, for yours."

Shizuo was left speechless, eyes finally falling on the red string of so-called fate that connected their fingers, their lives, their hearts, together. Maybe he really was hallucinating. Maybe it all wasn't real. This notion filled him with relief, but a small tug of disappointment still lingered in the back of his mind.

"Now, I would love to sit here rambling in your ear for hours, turning you red all day, I _really_ would, but I think I've had my fill for one morning. You have work, right?"

It was this uncharacteristic moment of consideration on Izaya's part that suddenly threw him off. Since when did the flea turn down the chance to toy with him for as long as he wanted? After a while of hesitation, Shizuo nodded, frowning, and left the room.

As soon as he was gone, Izaya flopped back on the bed and smiled happily at the ceiling.


	27. Chapter 27

Shizuo angrily stalked into Shinra's kitchen only to realize he wasn't hungry in the least. Just thinking about last night was starting to make him sick.

He _had _in fact recognized the flea when he'd kissed him– only one man had ebony hair paired with those scarlet eyes, only he would smile at him like that. Thin and pretty, only one person.

But he'd thought it was a dream.

Maybe it would be fairer to say he'd _hoped _it was a dream.

Shizuo tried to convince himself it was his dream state plus the alcohol that made him act the way he had. But Izaya had sat there, kissing him unlike anyone ever had, unlike he'd ever _imagined, _and his suppressed inhibitions were not there to stop him. Shizuo had been so enraptured in pleasure that the hate he'd always felt for Izaya merely never surfaced.

Shizuo's hand suddenly came up to cover his mouth as he blushed furiously, leaning up against the counter, eyes going wide.

Izaya had taken his first kiss.

Not to mention his _virginity._

[Are you alright?]

Shizuo jerked and blinked at the PDA in front of him. He hadn't even noticed Celty come in, let alone start breakfast. The scent of tamagoyaki was finally wafting strongly in the air, and she had started to cut the roll with a shadow knife.

"Uh. Sort of."

[Remind me what you're doing back here?]

Shizuo scratched the back of his head, eyes racing around as if he'd find his cover story on the floor, the counter, the cabinets, posted on the fridge. The only visible answer he could find was the red string lying on his finger. After a long pause, he figured honesty would be the best policy.

"I got a little drunk last night, needed a place to crash."

The reminders of the previous night were returning in the form of a wave of nausea and a rippling headache. Shizuo clutched the countertop, trying to be careful not to break the corner off. Celty seemed shocked by his answer, but settled and typed.

[You smell like something, but I can't put my finger on it.]

For once, Shizuo was eternally grateful that Celty's lack of a head dulled her sense of smell. Now that he looked back, the lotion on the bedside table had read "jasmine" or something.

"I-It's nothing. I should probably take a shower or something."

"Celty!~" Shinra's voice rang out from the main bedroom, too loudly for the morning. Celty's smoking neck appeared to wince of its own accord along with Shizuo, whose headache only grew and grew as a result.

[Well don't do it here. Shinra's expecting company in his office soon.]

Shizuo nodded as Celty put her knife down and seemed to float out of the kitchen to tend to Shinra. Once again, the blond was left to his own devices, wondering if he should tempt to take one of the tamagoyaki rolls that were now starting to make his stomach growl.

And suddenly, like a truck speeding down the highway, it hit him.

Shizuo grabbed the knife from the countertop, shadowy metal screeching against the granite. It was cold to his fingers, and smoke emanated from its edges while the blade shone. Celty's blades could cut through anything, right?

He could end it all, right now.

He could go back to living his modest life, back to hating Izaya and back to uprooting coke machines near Sunshine. He could go back to getting fatally injured and laying on Shinra's couch, back to ignoring pain.

Sucking in a breath, Shizuo did it in one swift move.

He cut the string.

It severed and fell, two feet of string hanging from his little finger while the rest trailed along the floor to the hospital room. But instead of a heavy weight lifting from his chest, it pressed down even harder.

At first nothing happened. Nothing seemed to change. Then Shizuo watched as the end of his own thread started to singe like the end of a cigarette, and the entire string went black.

The floorboards in the hallway creaked, and without a sound, Shizuo dropped the knife back on the counter and dashed out the front door.

* * *

><p>note: Jasmine means "luck with love."<p> 


	28. Chapter 28

Tom found Shizuo eating breakfast at — where else — Russia Sushi. Russia Sushi was one of the few restaurants in Ikebukuro that still didn't, and probably never would, have an anti-Shizuo policy, considering all the damage he'd managed to cause in the recent years. The blond hadn't eaten much so far, however, which was what concerned Tom. He sat himself down at Shizuo's table, put his head in his hand, and held up a delicate blue object made of metal and glass.

Shizuo looked up, slurping the rest of the hanging noodles into his mouth.

"Hey, my sunglasses!"

Tom was relieved to see the first genuine smile from the blond that he'd seen in a long time. Shizuo stuck his head out and Tom placed the frames back over his eyes. As soon as he adjusted to the blue tint, Shizuo went back to digging into his breakfast.

"I was passing by Freedom again and they were holding onto them for you."

"Thanks." Shizuo held his bowl out towards Tom while talking and chewing at the same time. "Want some?"

Tom declined. "Already ate." He watched him for a few minutes, waiting for him to finish and pay the bill. "Well _someone's_cheerful."

Of course, Shizuo was thinking. He was no longer tied to Izaya, he was free. He didn't have to worry about falling in love with someone he hated— that sure wouldn't end well. It was all Fate's fault for messing with the infamous Heiwajima Shizuo anyway, wasn't it?

"So are you okay to work today? I had a killer hangover this morning, I can imagine–"

"Sure, I'm free," Shizuo cut in enthusiastically. He rolled his shoulders, a few cracks sounded loudly, and he coughed.

"Oh." Tom shrugged. "Alright, let's go. We have some catching up to do."

There were a total of about five jobs in store for the pair today, Tom said, maybe even more. From what Tom could tell, Shizuo was as good as ever, on occasion even happy to get angry at a "client" desperate for escape. It was as if Shizuo had never been injured in the first place

As afternoon approached, the job count had dwindled down to about two, and that was if their "clients" were home. Tom went up to the door of an apartment just on the edge of downtown, Shizuo right behind him, and knocked. A man answered cautiously, only to slam the door when he saw the former bartender's face. With ease, Shizuo kicked the door off its hinges while Tom attended to the coward. He examined the splinters on the floor and shook his head.

"Well? I don't think I need to tell you twice to pay up, or you're next."

Shizuo coughed.

"Please! Please, just give me two more days, I'll get my paycheck then! Two days!"

Tom adjusted his glasses with a light smirk. "There are two people you can take that up with— my boss, or Shizuo."

Said man tried to clear his throat again, only to have the coughs grow louder. There was a thud as Shizuo's back fell to the wall, violent trembles wracking his body as control was ripped from him. Tom turned just as a splatter of blood appeared in Shizuo's hand.

"Shizuo!"

In a panic, the man rushed for the window and made a break for the balcony.

"Shit!" Tom cursed at having lost the job, but the thought was out of his mind as soon as he crouched down to Shizuo, who was now too weak to stand and could barely breathe without more blood dotting his mouth. As the image of his boss faded in and out of the blond's consciousness, there was only one sentence he could make out clearly amidst Tom's regrets before everything went dark.

_"Hang on, Shizuo– you're gonna be okay."_

* * *

><p><em>Shizuo<em>

_I have something to tell you_

The blond awoke with a start, bolting upright only to be struck with a wave of nausea. With a groan, he eased himself back down onto a familiar bed. The hospital bed at Shinra's. That same doctor was the one who waltzed in now, snatching up the clipboard on his way.

"Good, you're awake!" Shinra glanced at the heart monitor that Shizuo hadn't noticed; now the steady beeping flooded into his ears. The doctor scribbled the readings on his clipboard. "How are you feeling?"

"Like everything on my insides wants to be on the outside. That's a terrible question, Shinra."

"What?" Shinra said defensively, taking another look at the figures. "Anyway, looks like you coughed up quite a bit of blood. We'll put you on a respirator if it gets worse and do some blood tests."

Shizuo regarded the cotton ball and tape over the inside of his elbow. "You already drew the sample."

"Would it have mattered if you were awake?"

Shinra's eyes were glinting with some kind of sick fascination. It was only until after he had left the room that Shizuo realized he'd probably taken more than just one draw of blood– one for testing, the rest for experimentation. Shizuo hoped the next time he woke up he wouldn't be strapped to an operating table with a scalpel halfway up his arm.

Celty entered then, placing a hand on the door and closing it behind her gently. She took one of the short stools and sat next to the bed. Suddenly self-conscious, Shizuo looked down to find himself in little more than a hospital gown.

[You shouldn't have gone out drinking.]

The blond chuckled. "I don't think a little alcohol would make me almost cough out a lung."

Celty trembled, then typed rapidly. [YOU COUGHED OUT A LUNG?]

The chuckle turned into a laugh, which proved to be a little painful. "No, Celty, my lungs are intact right now."

[But would it be possible?] she said worriedly.

"I don't know." He put a hand on her PDA as she began to type again. "If your next message includes the word 'aliens', you can stop right now."

Celty erased what she had and retyped. [Are you in pain?]

"Not yet. So, what's broken this time?"

[Don't take this too lightly, Shizuo.]

Shizuo's jocular expression softened into sobriety. "Is it bad?"

Her neck lowered in a negative gesture. [We don't know yet. We still don't know what's wrong with you.]

Shizuo turned his gaze to the window. Midnight cast over the sky, bursting with sparkles of stars placed at random, faint outlines of clouds barely visible in the absence of sun. A blue tint filtered into every shadow and every surface. There was no moon.

[Once Shinra gets everything sorted out, we're going to have you transferred to the hospi–]

Shizuo shook his head, coming back to give Celty an honest stare. She shivered at the look in his eyes, solemn and quiet, more like his name than she'd ever seen him show.

"No. I want to stay here."


	29. Chapter 29

Shizuo didn't know how long he'd been asleep until the clock on the opposite wall told him it was ten in the morning. The bright early light startled him, blinds creating a concentrated beam focused almost directly on his eye. The blond sat up and pushed them aside, letting more of the sun's dazzle shine through. He squinted and fell back against the bed. The heart monitor resonated steadily near his head.

At the sound of a buzz, Shizuo scrambled groggily for his cellphone and found it lying on the bedside table. There were several missed calls. He snapped the phone shut and took a deep breath, only for his lungs to protest as he lapsed into a coughing fit. Beyond the loud hacks, he could hear the beep of the heart monitor speeding up.

He didn't have enough concentration to notice Shinra rush to his aid, upping some of the IV fluids he'd placed overnight. Celty ran in to hand him a glass of water, which he downed quickly, and a bucket.

"What's this for?" Shizuo managed to get out weakly.

"Blood!" Shinra chirped almost cheerfully. Shizuo had the terrible urge to punch that smirk right off that boyish face, but another cough wracked his system and he hung his head over the bucket. Celty was there to rub his back soothingly as she showed her PDA to Shinra.

"No blood? That's good. Shizuo, are you hungry?"

"A little," the blond croaked.

Celty floated out of the room to find some breakfast. Shinra sat down on the edge of the bed and started to jot some notes down on his clipboard while balancing coffee in the other hand; Shizuo's focus fixed on the chibi-Shinra logo with his name and a star next to it.

"So." He slapped the clipboard down onto his lap and took a sip of coffee. "How are we feeling today?"

"I don't know about 'we' but _I'm_still shit-for-lungs."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually." Shinra glanced at the clipboard again and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "After the tests, I've concluded that it's not your lungs. Well, not _entirely_your lungs, I mean."

Swallowing down another cough, Shizuo handed the bucket to Shinra, who put it on the floor. "Go on."

"The attacking cells we've found in the samples are not those of respiratory viruses or pathogens. There are a few, but they're more attributed to, say, a cold, or a light pneumonia if anything. No, these cells are going for your cardiovascular system, and winning."

"In English, Shinra."

"It's your heart, Shizuo."

The blond fought hard not to roll his eyes. How ironic — or rather, _how fitting._

Celty stepped in with a tray of tamagoyaki. His mouth watered just smelling it, and he dug in after an earnest 'thank you' in the Dullahan's direction. He ate as Shinra rambled on in doctor-ese; Celty leaned against the doorframe, their audience.

"Now, there are a few options here for echocardiograms to get a closer look at your heart. There's transesophageal echocardiograms, but that requires invasion through the esophagus, and we probably don't want to test your throat's limits right now. Stress echocardiograms would be easier since it wouldn't be difficult to get the equipment for it— a simple treadmill— but since you're having trouble just walking, let alone running, it's not an option unless we bring in some way of aggravating your system. Another echo we can do is the dobutamine stress echo, which is more of a drug that's designed to make your body think it's exercising, but I don't want to give you any more drugs until we know more clearly the thing that's running through your bloodstream–"

"Okay okay, sure," Shizuo groaned, waving his hand. "Whatever. What _can_you do?"

"The standard echo. We run a transducer over your chest, and in the meantime we can also check your other organ systems to make sure they aren't affected as well. It's basically an ultrasound."

Shizuo took a minute or so to process this while he chewed. Swallowing the egg rolls down was a little difficult.

"…But I'm not pregnant."

Celty burst forward with her PDA. [IS SHIZUO PREGNANT?]

Shinra laughed out loud. "Shizuo isn't pregnant, and I'm not going into the biological details of the impossibility of male pregnancy, otherwise Shizuo will lose his breakfast." He patted Shizuo's leg underneath the covers as he stood to leave. "I've scheduled the echo for tomorrow afternoon, so you should rest for now, and we'll be watching your readings. Celty's still seeing about getting a small TV while you wait."

Celty appeared before him. [Tom's been waiting for you to wake up. I'll call him.]

Shizuo nodded. "Thanks."

* * *

><p><strong>Wanna take a minute to thank you guys for reading! It means a lot :3<strong>


	30. Chapter 30

Out of mere exhaustion from the nameless drugs in plastic IV bags, Shizuo had fallen asleep again. When he awoke, Tom was sitting beside him, a book open in his lap and dreadlocks pushed back with a hair tie. The blond went back to staring at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

"What time is it?"

Tom nearly jumped out of his chair, accidentally snapping the book shut in his hands. "Oh. Shizuo." After a pause, he checked his watch. "Two fifteen."

"Okay."

"…How are you doing?"

Shizuo took a deep breath, trying to be careful not to aggravate his airways. "Shinra says I'm doing a little better, but he still doesn't know what I have. Apparently–" he coughed suddenly, and Tom raised a few inches out of his chair. But there was nothing he could do except watch and wait for it to pass. When it did, Shizuo picked up right where he'd left off. "He's going to be running this thing tomorrow, I forget what it's called, 'anko' or something…"

"An echo?"

"Yeah. He says it's my heart."

Shizuo looked absolutely dismal, with dark circles thinning under his eyes and a gaunt shallowness to his cheekbones. Tom hurt almost physically to see him like this, without hope, just as he'd been feeling better after the fall. It was disheartening.

"I'm sorry."

"It had nothing to do with you, you don't have to apologize."

"But it does. I let you work, only a day after you'd, well, fallen off a fucking roof, for christ's sake. And I shouldn't have–"

Tom froze as Shizuo took a sharp inhale, but it settled.

"Tom, it wasn't you. You have nothing to be sorry about, so don't feel guilty." He turned his head to the man, letting him see how dim those eyes had become, once full of luster and youth. Shizuo now looked like he'd aged five years, if not more. He turned his head away, hair shifting on the pillow beneath his head. "Can you do something for me?"

"Yeah, sure, anything. Whatever you need."

"Open the window?"

The innocent question threw him off, but in a few seconds Tom stood from the chair and walked around the bed to the window. He pushed the blinds back and slid it open, careful about the soft grating sound of metal frame against frame. Fresh air flowed slowly through, cooling Tom's skin, and neglected sunlight glistened warmly from outside.

"Tell me how the echo goes."

"I will." Shizuo nodded. "He said it's like an ultrasound."

Tom paused on his way back to the chair. "But you're… isn't that… Ultrasounds are for pregnancies, right?"

Shizuo chuckled. "That's what I said too."

Laughter followed by silence filled the vacant room. Tom sat back down and opened his book. Shizuo drummed his fingers along his other arm and sighed.

"Thank you."

"Don't," Tom responded immediately, not even looking up to answer. "Anyone would have done what I did."

The blink of Shizuo's eyes seemed painfully slow. "No, they wouldn't."

* * *

><p><em>The echo is today<em>, Shizuo thought the moment he woke up the next morning. Even though it wasn't scheduled until later than afternoon, it was still a prominent future event if only for the fact that he had nothing else going on. No meetings, no get-togethers, no planned lunches, no playing catch-up with old high school acquaintances or jobs to worry about. But Shizuo was the kind of guy who liked to busy his body with _something, _and since cigarettes had been banned by Shinra, the blond lay restlessly in bed, staring at the yellow press between his two fingers where a cigarette would normally sit and imagining the piece of thin cylinder shape between his lips.

That morning, Celty rolled in a small Sony TV on a wheeled table. After breakfast, she tossed him the remote. It landed on the bedsheets beside him.

[There are some movies you can order. Watch whatever you like.]

He nodded, but after only a few hours of a chick flick and a cheesy action movie, Shizuo grew bored and blankly occupied his mind elsewhere while the television flashed and blinked in the background. He was staring straight through the screen when he heard some faint one-ended conversation outside his door.

"Oh so you heard–… because you're– right, of course, our most brilliant informant. …How am _I?_ What kind of question… _I'm_ fine, but _he's_—… Well why the hell do you need to know how _I'm _doing, when Shizuo's the one suffering! If you… No. …No. He's watching TV. There's not much for him to do now. …Yeah. He never had very many hobbies, did he… True, but… _No,_ I'm not going to let him _smoke_… 'Image' my ass, Shizuo won't have much of an image if he's a fucking vegetable all his–… No, it won't come to that. Whatever he has, it's not bad enough to induce… Because it's not progressing too fast, so even if it _is_ anything _close _to–… yeah, we'll be able to catch it before it reaches that stage… Yes."

Shizuo was starting to wonder who Shinra was talking to, when his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by one question that stood out despite its lowered volume.

"So are you going to come visit him?"

A few moments pause, and then a string of curses and shouting followed that Shizuo couldn't quite make out, but it shocked him, coming from Shinra. He'd never seen or heard him this vapid, this outraged, and it almost scared him. However, his ailing heart froze at the doctor's next words.

"Well _fuck_, Izaya, at least take some _fucking _responsibility for the mess he's in now."

There was a loud snap of what the blond assumed was Shinra closing his cellphone. Then something overturned and struck to the floor. A terrifying silence. When Shinra walked in, Shizuo quickly glued his eyes to the screen, which was playing a newly released comedy. He clapped his hands, taking Shizuo's attention by force; his expression was pained underneath but enthusiastic and eager behind those thick-framed glasses.

"Let's get that ultrasound out of the way, yeah? You must be bored to tears."


	31. Chapter 31

It was a weird feeling— the cold gel being spread across his bare upper chest and neck. Wires attached to patches were placed on various parts of his skin. Shizuo, who was lying slightly on his side, watched as all the battle scars he'd accumulated were glossed over, leaving a clear translucent sheen in their wake, with the curved surface of the transducer. Shinra's concentration was fixed on the screen in front of him, which Shizuo was not allowed to see. To the doctor, it showed black, white and grey streaks that faintly outlined the pulsating images of the blond's chest cavity.

"Well?" Shizuo placidly piped up when this went on for a few minutes. He had been trying to figure out what all the knobs and dials on the machine meant, to no avail.

"Still can't get a clear image…" Shinra said distractedly. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and with nothing better to do, Shizuo observed the reflection of the screen on the doctor's glasses. Shinra tilted the transducer and whistled a bright tune.

Shizuo glanced over at Celty, who was standing by the open window. Cool air was coming through; overall, Shizuo was feeling strangely cold only in the exposed areas of his skin.

"It's cold," he said.

"It's just the gel. Aha." His lips twitched up a little in a triumphant smile. "There she is."

"Why are you referring to my heart as a female?"

"Hearts are girly things, Shizuo." The blond blushed for a second, reminded of how hopelessly romantic he'd always felt in high school and still did feel, just a little. He quickly added, "Even though my love for Celty will always be pure, honest and genderless–"

Celty tossed a small shadow pebble at his head.

"Just tell me what's on the screen."

Shinra hummed, leaning closer. "Heart's beating, just as it should be. A little fast."

"Is that bad?"

"Not really. Probably nerves. You need to relax."

"I am relaxed."

Shizuo listened to the strange waves coming from the machine. They sounded like someone making an irritating wind noise with the air in their mouth, up and down, synchronizing with the apparently quick beat of the heart monitor.

"Is that…?"

"What?"

Shinra paused, then shook his head. "Nevermind. It's nothing, just a shadow. Left ventricle, clear."

At her cue, Celty scribbled down on Shinra's clipboard.

"Are you sure?"

Shinra took a look at it again. "Yeah, I'm sure. Left aorta… looks clear." He tilted the transducer again to the other side of his chest. Shizuo tipped his head back a little and tried to relax, but the large number on the heart monitor still read 80, which he was pretty sure was higher than it should have been.

"Right ventricle, cle– hold on. Shizuo, don't talk."

Shizuo snapped his mouth shut and watched Shinra study the screen for what seemed like an eternity. After only a few moments had passed, however, he relaxed his shoulders. "Clear."

"How much longer?" Shizuo groaned impatiently.

"Got somewhere to go?" He moved the transducer along. "One more section of the heart. Right aorta…"

Celty scribbled more onto the clipboard, pen racing across it faster than he'd ever seen any human write. The heart monitor gave an extra quick beep at the same time as an extra one of the "woosh" sounds.

"Oh."

"'Oh'?"

"Well…

[What is it?]

"Slight heart murmur. Very small, but we should still monitor it. But don't worry, most heart murmurs are harmless. Other than that, for some reason, your heart is perfectly fine."

Shizuo felt his body sink into the bed a little as Shinra turned off the echocardiogram machines and wiped down both the transducer and Shizuo's chest. He paused then, running a hand over his bare, dry chest.

"Shizuo, you're really hot."

The blond snorted. "As much as Celty pretends she might not love you, I don't think she's happy to hear that."

"No, I mean you're burning up." Shinra's hand drifted to his forehead and came up moist with sweat. "That must be why you were so cold– to you, everything even a little bit cooler than you would seem freezing!"

"Wait, so…" Shizuo pondered. "I have a fever?"

"You've spiked one out of nowhere. There's no way to tell if it'll last or if it's going to go away, or if it's even a symptom of what you have, but it's likely that the heart murmur was caused by your fever. I'll contact Yagiri Pharmaceuticals for a cardiological consult."

[So what do we do now?]

Shinra adjusted a gauge on the IV system and smiled. "Why, we wait for the fever to break."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for being patient, haha~ I was out of town and without internet for a couple days and just got back.<strong>


	32. Chapter 32

"It's getting shorter…"

"Hm?" Shinra looked up from his clipboard for a moment. He was keeping Shizuo company while the pharmaceutical company went over the echocardiogram, which would take anywhere from a few hours to a day or two. The television had started to bore the blond, so the only option left was human company.

"Nothing."

Shizuo studied his hand, watching the blackened string catch the light breeze outside. He had remembered it being at least two feet long when he'd cut it, but now, it couldn't have been much more than eighteen inches.

A ringing phone snapped him out of his daze. At first he thought it was his own cellphone, but then Shinra dug into the pockets of his lab coat and answered the call. After a moment of listening to the other end, Shinra stood and left the room.

"What is it?" he said curtly.

"Waaa~ so mean~"

"I'm not in the mood to deal with you again, Izaya."

There was a loud, long snort. "I need a refill~"

"What?" Shinra put a hand on the table next to him to steady himself. "The antibiotics should have lasted you a week!"

Another snort. Izaya's voice was labored and muffled. "But they weren't working, so I took more, and now there's none left…"

"If they weren't working, you should have told me. Besides, it's only been a couple days. You wouldn't see any major signs for a while."

"Shinra-kuuun, they're all gone now~"

"That's not my problem."

Suddenly Shinra was talking to an informant rather than a sick child. "But it _is_, Shinra. It _is _your problem, because you're my doctor, and you are responsible for whatever happens to me in regards to my health. You would have my clients to face if I were incapacitated. And you remember who my clients are, right Shinra?"

A chill crept down Shinra's spine like a flurry of spiders. But he tried to compose himself, remaining cold as ever.

"Of course I remember."

Izaya's tone reverted quickly, as if he'd never made the threat. "So I can come over to pick up another prescription, ne?"

"Only if you follow the directions, one per day."

The informant could be heard blowing his nose. "Okay!~"

"And…" Shinra stepped out from his office to take a peek into Shizuo's room from the hallway. The blond was dozing, and his heartbeat was normal, but he was still running a high fever and started mumbling in his sleep now. He returned to his office. "And when you're here, you have to come see him."

The other line went quiet.

"…Izaya?" he ventured.

"Ah… sorry, I thought I had to sneeze. That burning feeling, y'know? I hate it."

"So are you coming or not?"

"But you've given me a tricky ultimatum," Izaya whined. "I dunno if I can now~"

Shinra looked around, picked up the nearest orange and white pill bottle, and shook it next to the phone. It produced a rattling noise sent to the other end.

"Awww… but Shinra-kun!"

"No buts, Izaya! Visit him or no pills."

It went silent again, but the pause was longer. Finally, in a small, solemn voice, Izaya whispered,

"…I'll think about it."

The line went dead.

* * *

><p>The next day, the visitor was in fact a <em>group <em>of visitors.

"Hey Yumachii, help me with this will you?"

"Slow down, ah?"

Kadota, Erika and Walker were currently the center of Shizuo's otherwise unoccupied attention. Erika had her arms full with large rolls of some sort of paper material. Walker rushed to her aid as two slipped from her grasp and avoided an untimely demise on the floor. Kadota was holding a plastic bag with a box-shaped object inside.

Shizuo sat up to greet them in, fighting the sleepy haze of his late morning nap. He wasn't sure why he'd been feeling so drained lately. Kadota took the stool beside the hospital bed.

"So, Shizu-Shizu!" Erika piped up from the other corner of the room. "We heard you were sick and decided to visit, but we're gonna do much more than that today!"

Walker leaned a few of the rolls against the wall. "We thought you might like something to look at! This room is so _boring_ and _bland_, but Kimi ni Todoke is _sure_to spice things up!"

Shizuo watched as he taped up a poster of a rather curvy young girl wearing a flower in her hair and the most revealing bathing suit he'd ever seen, with a tall, handsome boy standing behind her and holding a beach ball.

"Saburo wanted to stay with the van, but he sends his get-well wishes," Kadota told him.

"When's the wedding?" Walker chirped mockingly.

"Togusa loves his van more than he loves us!" Erika puffed out her cheeks in a pout.

"Shut up, now if you're not gonna hang up the damn posters, I'll send you back there."

"Ah, and we brought you some manga to read too!" Erika dropped a pile on the bed that consisted of Fruits Basket, Ouran High School Host Club, Esu, and Shugo Chara.

Shizuo was still watching the posters go up, reading the titles: a green-haired girl in a futuristic one-piece with "Code Geass" underneath; a group of short girls accompanying the word "K-ON"; another…

"Hey, take that one down! Shizuo doesn't want any of that crap in here!"

Shizuo didn't quite understand what the fuss was about– the title was "Liberty Liberty," with a blown-up drawing of a man with dark hair tied back in a ponytail and a short brunette girl–

…Oh.

"But Dotachiiin~"

Walker pulled the poster down gently, fearing for his life if he were to tear it. "I think Dotachin's right on this one."

"Oh." Kadota reached into the bag, plastic rustling. Shizuo watched silently as he had for the entire time, having little energy to move or speak. His eyes drifted down to the string on his finger, which was still slowly disappearing at the burn-like end.

"I brought you some cake." The box opened, revealing a pristine white-frosted and perfect triangle. The cake inside was a light brown, probably chocolate, laced with red gel and dusted with cocoa curls. "I don't know what you like other than sweets in general, so it's chocolate with white chocolate and raspberry."

Shizuo smiled despite himself. It did look delicious and he'd been having little more than generic hospital food and the occasional breakfast made by Celty before she went out to work. It was a delicate smile. "Thank you, Kadota."

"It was nothing, I figured I should at least–"

"No. Thank you, it means a lot." Shizuo beamed at him, mustering the most energy into it as he could. "You've done more for me than I think I'll ever be able to repay."

Kadota grinned. "Don't. It's on me."

* * *

><p>That night, after pacing back and forth in his office, coughing and sneezing every time he passed his desk or looked up and out the window, Izaya collapsed onto the sofa and groaned into the dark cushion.<p>

_Fucking cold._

Fucking ultimatum.

…Fucking Shinra.


	33. Chapter 33

There was only one more visitor who came later at night. The room was absolutely soundless, however, because both did not say much. Only the heart monitor drifted in the background.

"Sorry I couldn't visit sooner. I couldn't get out of rehearsal."

Shizuo nodded. "It's alright. You're here. That's enough."

After a pause, Kasuka looked around at the anime posters on the walls. Then his eyes fell on the stack of manga by the hospital bed. Fruits Basket was on top.

"Fruits Basket…?"

"Erika brought them. It's not that bad– a bit cheesy."

Kasuka smiled a little. "I've been called 'Hatori' once."

"I'll look out for him."

A set of footsteps warned the two that Shinra was coming in. He tucked the fresh IV bag under his arm and replaced the old one, which was starting to run low. "How are you doing, Shizuo? Feeling okay?"

"Surviving. Managing. A little better."

"Great! I was called by Yagiri Pharmaceuticals – they said that your results should be ready tomorrow!"

"Thanks, Shinra."

He left when the thought that he might be intruding popped up in his mind. They both nodded and fell back into silence. It wasn't the most energetic reunion– stick a hospitalized and bored man in a room with his stoic deadpan of a brother, and they wouldn't exactly be chatting it up.

"I brought you something."

Kasuka dug into his bag and pulled out a simple white flower in a small pot. It's just like him to pick out this sort of gift– he knew Shizuo wouldn't like a commercial bunch of flowers from any convenience store. They were artificial in the figurative sense rather than the literal. Shizuo preferred organic and fresh, and to the blond it's the perfect gift — more than he could ever ask for.

Shizuo's eyes softened at the flower; he caressed the delicate, feathery petals with his fingers, almost afraid he might crush it at any second. But the flower remained fully a flower, and Shizuo, like he always felt when Kasuka was there, did not dwell on his own tendency to destroy all good things around him.

"Thank you. It's beautiful."

Kasuka nodded wordlessly. He took the pot back and started to put it on the table.

"Kasuka. The window."

His brother blinked those mocha brown eyes right at him in acknowledgement, then stood and set the flower pot on the window sill. The moonlight caught its soft angles in the most aesthetic of ways, and Shizuo found himself mesmerized.

"Evening primrose. They only open at night."

"Do these even grow in Japan?"

"I don't think so."

"Good." Shizuo grinned. "So it's like I'm traveling."

A moment of silence.

"…I can take you to Central America when you're better."

"Is that where they're from?"

Kasuka nodded, and Shizuo smiled complacently. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p>Before the informant knew it, two weeks had passed since he'd first gotten sick (<em>gotten sick<em>, not the water fight with Shizuo, he corrected himself). And two weeks meant only one thing.

"Tadaima!~"

He coughed a little, sniffled, and swallowed.

"Go to your own home. You're too sick."

"Levelheaded as ever, Shiki-san~"

The yakuza boss finally looked up from his spot on the sofa, reading a newspaper and drinking a short glass of scotch. His expression remained nonchalant but quizzical.

"Fine. But if I get sick, you get dead. Got it?"

"I see your sense of humor hasn't changed either." Izaya sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch. There was a bright green manila folder under his arm, though he kept it glued to his side.

"So what do you have?"

"Ah ah ah, Shiki-san~"

Shiki groaned and reached into his white jacket, pulling out a small envelope and handing it to the informant. "Half your payment." Izaya opened it up and flipped through the bills. "Start."

"Well, this thing is definitely hard to track. So far, it's all underground. No one's talking."

"Any idea about what it does?"

"As you told me before, the drug is harmful. Could be lethal, even. From what I could gather, it's a liquid, white and diaphanous. Ingested, not injected. No taste, but a pleasant, perfume-y odor." Izaya chuckled. "Like shampoo, I suppose."

"Shampoo." Shiki gave him an incredulous look.

"Yes!~" He pulled out the folder and passed a sheet of paper to Shiki, coughing once. "The last place where it was identified was by the Saikyo Line."

"Saikyo Line… isn't that near Shinjuku?"

"Is Shiki-san worried about me?"

"No. If you were able to track it there, it's bound to be somewhere else now."

Izaya frowned and cleared his throat. "But either way, it's obvious that the handlers may be experts at hiding their trail, but they are still just amateurs when it comes to managing the drug. I've found one case in which a few vials went missing, and one of their men was infected."

"What happened to this guy?"

Izaya coughed loudly. "Still waiting on that."

"Do you need some water?"

"No, I'm–" cough "fine, I'm al–" cough cough "already used to…" Izaya couldn't hold them back now. His lungs were on fire, folding in on themselves as he struggled to breathe. The center of his chest was attacked by sharp, stabbing pains that radiated up into his throat and left the cavity with the feeling of a heavy dead weight pulling him down. He clutched his own neck-shoulder junction as if it might do something, but the terrifying sensation never left him. Shiki thrust his scotch forward, and Izaya took what was left– only to cough it out, amber liquid dripping from his lips and onto the dark carpet like the leftover evidence of a grotesque crime scene to join the spherical ice cubes that fell from the dropped glass.


	34. Chapter 34

Shiki accompanied Izaya in the car as the informant was taken to his closest friend and doctor. He kept his distance, not wanting the germs to get too airborne and spread to himself, but let his hand fall on Izaya's back, patting and rubbing it soothingly as Izaya tried, in vain, to stop coughing. There was a lull in the fit when they approached the underground doctor's building; Izaya groaned weakly and had to be supported by one of Shiki's lackeys in getting out of the car.

He was coughing again by the time they reached the door. Shinra opened it and, with a moment's pause, let them in. Izaya was laid on the couch and watched as the yakuza left.

"Sit up, it'll be easier on your lungs." When Izaya did, Shinra stood with his arms akimbo. "You know, I don't know if you've heard about it, but there's this thing called 'karma' found in the religions of Hinduism and Buddhism…"

_Cough_ "Fuck" _cough cough_ "you" _cough_. "Can I please just get a prescription and go?"

"You know our deal…"

"But _Shinra_… I'm _dyin' _here…"

"I hope you don't have the same thing Shizuo does."

Izaya looked up, fear flickering across his face. "Could I have an STD?"

"Calm down, Izaya. You don't have an STD."

"What-" _cough _"do you know?"

Shinra raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Because I checked Shizuo for STDs after that little comment you made last week on the phone."

Izaya coughed a shaky sigh of relief, forced to shorter sentences now. "Pills please?" His voice squeaked.

"Well," Shinra conceded, "you _are _in a pathetic state right now…"

"That had better not be pity I hear, _Shinra-kun._"

Shinra reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a pill bottle. Izaya's eyes widened like a small child being taunted with the biggest lollipop he'd ever seen. He tried to grab them, but his energy was low and his arm fell short.

"Go see him."

"No."

"Why not?"

Izaya sighed, sitting back on crossed arms. "I have my reasons."

"If they're good enough, I'll lift the ultimatum."

The informant paused and took a deep breath. It aggravated his cough a little, and Shinra waited sympathetically. Those brick red irises seemed to dim with slight sorrow. He sniffed.

"He doesn't want to see me and I don't want to see him."

"That's not true."

"Is it? Have you asked him?"

"His fever's been skyrocketing in the past few days. I don't think he knows what he wants."

"I'm not afraid, if that's what you're thinking."

"I don't think that."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

Shinra sighed and put his back to the wall with an audible _thump_. "Everyone he knows and loves has already come to visit him. Except you."

"The implication of that statement is that he loves me."

He shrugged. "Who knows."

Izaya stared at the doctor, then burst out laughing. His body shook and rolled on the couch as the laugh turned into an unbearable cough. Shinra calmly handed him a glass of water, which he gulped down greedily.

"I can't bear it," he said hoarsely, handing the empty glass back to Shinra.

"What?"

Izaya turned away so Shinra couldn't see the flicker of pain in his face. "Shizu-chan's a monster. Monsters shouldn't be as weak as he is. I can't, I wouldn't be able to…"

"Ah, I see. You _are _afraid."

"Shinra, what did I just say—"

"But you are." Shinra sat down next to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're afraid that if you visit him in his condition, you'll no longer see him as a monster." He snorted, and the hand fell away. "It's a twisted and convoluted story, really…"

Izaya's hair fell over his eyes, reminding him that he hasn't gotten a haircut in at least two months. A light, wounded smirk graced his lips as he spoke. "Shizu-chan will always be a monster."

_Shizu-chan will always be my monster._


	35. Chapter 35

Izaya's monster writhed in the hospital bed as the heart monitor beeped faster and faster. Celty applied another towel, cold and wet with water, to his forehead. His eyes were closed tightly shut, brow knitted, and he tried to keep his breath steadier than the panting he was doing now. He groaned as a wave of dull but significant pain radiated through his body. He could feel the blood in his veins racing, trying to get more oxygen to his heart as even more was depleted by his breathing.

Celty watched him worriedly, realizing that there was nothing more she could do for him other than make sure he didn't throw the sheets off; Shinra had told her that Shizuo needed to break the fever, and that required he keep warm, much to the blond's frustrated dismay. She saw the flush in his face and the sweat beading along the skin, bringing bright, unwanted color. The beginnings of tears formed in his eyes as he suffered.

"…ya…"

Celty perked up, straining to listen above the heart monitor. Shizuo's throat was visibly dry; she reached for the water on the table and got ready to hand it to him when,

"I…zaya…"

Mentally, Celty blinked. Had she heard that right?

"Iza…ya…" he panted again, eyes still screwed shut. His face was beginning to show submission to the pain rather than his fight against it. _So in the end, Shizuo would never lose to gangs or guns, but illness._ Celty thought, turning the cloth over. He seemed to settle a little. _Is he dreaming?_ She'd read about something like this in one of Shinra's books. _Could it be that in his mind he's reverting to the days when he was healthy? _It made sense, considering the moments that Shizuo felt the most alive were probably when he was chasing after the informant.

"Izaya…"

It was like Shizuo was growing more sure of himself the more he said it.

_'I'm sorry,' _Celty thought distraughtly, hoping the message would reach Shizuo somehow. She stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. Whoever had come by to visit seemed to have left. Shinra was waiting in the hallway, arms crossed in thought, but looked up immediately at Celty.

"How is he?"

The question seemed to be going around a lot. Shinra had asked it so often that it left a sour, melancholy taste in his mouth.

[39ºC. He's delirious.]

"Well, I suppose we should have seen that coming. With a fever at this stage, it would be strangely uncommon for a _lack _of delirium."

[There's something else, too.]

"Hm?"

[He's been asking for Izaya.]

Shinra's eyes widened a little behind his glasses. "Wait, really?"

[Well, not asking. Just saying his name.] She took the PDA back to type more. [It hurts to watch.]

Shinra gave a slow nod. "The echocardiogram showed nothing other than the heart murmur. At this point, we may have to do an MRI. There's always invasive surgery…"

[Shinra, I am _not _letting you use this chance to dissect Shizuo.]

Shinra smirked sadly. "Once upon a time, that thought might've crossed my mind."

* * *

><p>"Venti café americano, light on the sugar, half skim milk half low-fat soy with a triple shot espresso and a dash of nutmeg on the top foam please."<p>

The barista flashed a cardboard-cutout smile without even flinching and asked, "Anything else? Whipped cream?"

_…How young does she think I am?_

Izaya studied her for a moment. She seemed full Japanese, but there were a few bleached highlights combed through her hair. The white oxford and black apron only served as another painful reminder. Her hair was tied back loosely, bangs messy across her face in a cute way, but right now the informant couldn't appreciate the arrangement.

His lips twitched as he smiled artificially back and glanced at the nametag.

"That's it, Shiori-san."

As he waited, fingers drumming on the counter, Izaya surveyed the small café near Raijin, now Raira, Academy. There were only a few customers — surprising, since it was afternoon and most coffee-drinkers were starting to get off work. He could see them all milling outside a little, meeting up with their friends or coming in to grab several on the go. A familiar trio sat nearby, but none of them had noticed his presence so he didn't bother to grab their attention. His change in attire did enough– he'd rid himself of the usual fur-trimmed jacket for a loose grey hoodie and thin-framed glasses.

If anything, it made him stand out among the normals of Ikebukuro, but right now Izaya didn't feel like trying to be himself.

"Nakura?"

Izaya raised his hand a little and took the cup. Without even attempting to meet her dark brown eyes this time, he gave her a nod and pushed past the glass door. It jingled brightly over his head as he stepped outside.

_I'm going to do it today._

The thought died when he reached Shinra's.

It was like every other day previous for the past half week. He'd been getting coffee at the same place and same time, ordering the same drink, and standing at the same spot in the street. He kept telling himself he'd visit Shizuo. But he couldn't bear it.

Not when he saw Shizuo's hand resting on the window every day.

He wasn't supposed to feel this way— or feel at all. But so many conflicting emotions swirling through Izaya's head put his mental state right in the center of a battlefield. The informant had little to do now, but it wasn't like he was bored. On the contrary, Izaya had been feeling restless and anxious for nearly a week, and being, for the most part, bedridden for almost a month didn't ease those feelings. There were only so many books in his library that he hadn't already read at least five times.

As a shadow began to move across the window, Izaya ducked for the nearest hiding spot and watched Shinra open the window for Shizuo. Shinra looked down and spotted him, but only shook his head sadly and turned away.


	36. Chapter 36

Shinra opened the door that day to find unlikely visitors standing at his threshold.

"He's not here."

"We know."

Sighing defeatedly, Shinra moved out of their way as they stepped inside and let them into Shizuo's room. The blond was, for the most part, awake– he hadn't been able to sleep through the pain of fever and aching that made him shiver uncontrollably. There were dark shadows under his fragile, ethereal eyes, now so subdued and dim. They brightened with the pair that came in to sit down, one right on the bed and the other on the stool.

Shizuo blinked slowly, wondering if he was still hallucinating. The red string was still bright around his finger, leading his gaze to meet theirs.

"What are you doing here?"

"Visit _(we came to visit)._"

"Since we heard Nii-sama's being a total stickler! We've come in his place."

Shizuo frowned at the mention of Izaya. For days he'd been plagued by dreams of the informant, whether he liked it or not. They'd been incoherent, strange and cryptic – if they were trying to tell something, why couldn't dreams just spell it out for him? He didn't think of himself as all that smart.

"Bad _(you don't look so good)_."

Shizuo coughed suddenly as if to accidentally prove their point. A few drops of blood lined the corners of his lips, and Mairu had to hold back a yelp. Kururi's eyes widened slightly. He swallowed, tasting iron.

"Did Izaya send you here?"

"Well, no. But we figured, being the ass he is, he wouldn't want to see you!"

Shizuo tried to shake his head but his neck felt tense. "Him."

"Him _(you want him)_?"

The blond gulped, glanced over, and stiffened. Tears were welling up in Mairu's eyes behind her glasses, a few droplets beginning to run down her cheeks. She touched him lightly over the sheets.

"Please don't die, Heiwajima-san…"

"What…?" Shizuo shifted in a halfhearted attempt to sit up. "I'm not going to die…"

"Yuuhei," Kururi whispered.

Mairu nodded vigorously. "We still need you to introduce us to Yuuhei-kun! So don't die, okay?"

Shizuo wasn't sure what to do in such a situation; he'd never had to comfort Kasuka because Kasuka had never cried, and on principle he never placed himself around small children for fear of hurting them. Tears and the comfort that came with them was a mystery. "I won't die, please stop crying."

"Promise _(do you promise)_?"

"Please, Heiwajima-san, how are we going to meet Yuuhei-kun if you–"

"I won't." Shizuo closed his eyes through a small wave of pain. His headache was tapping away in the back of his mind. The heart monitor gave a couple different beeps. "I promise. So stop crying."

Shinra rushed in to change the gauge on the IV as Mairu hopped off the bed. "Did we do something wrong?"

"Nothing at all." Shinra smiled down at them. "This is actually a bit of a good sign. His fever's starting to break."

Mairu bounced on her toes. "Really? So he's not going to die?"

"What? Of course not! Shizuo's nowhere close to dying, so calm down."

"Promised _(right. he promised.)_"

"Yup!~" Mairu took Kururi's hand and led her towards the door. "Heiwajima-san promised to let us meet Yuuhei-kun once he's better!"

"I did no such thing!"

"Tissues are in the bathroom if you need them!" he called after them on their way out. Shinra's grey eyes softened again when he turned back to Shizuo, who was now staring at the primrose on the window sill in heavy thought. "Why do you need to see _him _so badly?"

After a long pause, sun setting over the cityscape as the night line turned dismally overcast, Shizuo shrugged.

* * *

><p>"Venti café latte, no sweetener, espresso triple shot, one part low-fat milk and one-part almond soy, and a blueberry syrup drizzle over a single dot of whipped cream."<p>

Shiori was still there the next day, smiling her usual off-the-conveyer-belt mass-produced smile brainwashed into all the employees sometime during the job interview, he mused. Today, it was somehow almost comforting to find a sense of normalcy; no matter how many times he came to this café, he was met with the same woman. Normalcy in his coffee, however, was unwelcome, and after each strange yet fascinating combination he ordered (which they neither refused nor questioned), he'd grown bored and tried something new.

The only thing constant was the triple shot of espresso.

Namie had kept warning him to stay indoors and rest up with the medication until he got better, but as usual he ignored her advice and took his near-daily stroll through Ikebukuro; because he had no current jobs, his walks had been aimless in the first day until he found a routine. His phone buzzed in his pocket as he waited for his drink.

Izaya coughed. "Yeah?"

"He's getting a little better."

"Oya?" He watched Shiori pull the lever to dispense the black coffee. "Tell him I say congrats."

"Tell him yourself."

Izaya sighed. Somehow, as if by magic, Shiori had managed to find blueberry syrup even though it was included in none of the items on the overhead menu. She'd found a carton of almond soy milk, too: also not on the menu. _Maybe they have a secret stash of random ingredients especially for customers like me. _"I told you, I'm not coming to see him."

There were some sounds in the background of the other end. On Izaya's own end, Shiori was carefully measuring out the two different milks together like a scientist mixing toxic chemicals. As if Izaya would care if there were a single drop more of one than the other – even so, he would probably call her out on it.

"You don't have to. I'm putting you on with Shizuo."

"What? Wait, Shinra—"

"Hello?"

Izaya didn't respond when the barista called his alias. The voice was weak and almost ghostlike, only a faint remnant of Ikebukuro's Legend. There was no anger, no strength. Izaya's throat choked up with indecision, but before he could answer, Shizuo was wracked with a terrible cough that made it seem like Izaya was only mildly bothered by the sniffles.

"Hello? Shinra, who is this, why did you–"

"Shizu-chan…?"


	37. Chapter 37

"Nakura-san?" the barista called for the third time.

"Oh. Yes." Izaya took his coffee and immediately made for the door, routine jingle ringing above his head.

"…Izaya."

It made him halt in his tracks for a moment. Then he stepped outside and walked to the street corner, trying to keep his voice low and away from curious ears.

"Shinra says you're doing better."

"That's what he told me." A wet cough. "I don't _feel _much better, though." It was true; Shizuo felt no better than when he'd first spiked his fever.

"It's how getting sick works sometimes."

It came out almost like a lecture, from parent to child, but amazing that they were actually managing to carry a fairly normal conversation otherwise. They both hated it. There was a prolonged pause as Izaya walked the crosswalk briskly, almost breaking into a run when he reached the curb.

"…Shinra keeps trying to get me to come visit you."

"Can we stop talking about Shinra?" _Because so far, the conversation has been 'Shinra said this, Shinra did that'. _Shinra gaped and huffed on Shizuo's end, then crossed his arms and left the room.

"Any other topics up for discussion, then? Meteorology, medieval Japanese literature, quantum physics, string theory–"

"Izaya–"

"But you probably wouldn't understand any of that. It'd just be me talking, and that's no fun–"

"_Izaya–_"

"Or we could make small talk! How's the weather over there?"

"Can I get _something _in–"

"What, Shizu-chan?" Tears pricked at his eyes, illuminating carmine. "What do you have to say to me? Are you going to apologize for all those signs to the shoulder, vending machines to the head, the medical expenses? Shinra may be my friend but he's not free. Hey, maybe if I break all my bones repeatedly like you used to, I could end up just as strong as you! Oh- or are you sorry for fucking me senseless while intoxicated out of yours—"

"If I could just explain–"

"–because if it's anyone who should be apologizing–"

A rush of wind before him made him stumble backward and almost fall. In the heat of the moment Izaya hadn't watched where he was going and had almost walked straight into oncoming traffic. He managed to catch his coffee cup before it met its end on the pavement. When he could finally hear the other line over honking cars, Shizuo was coughing loudly. The light turned green, and Izaya dashed for the other side, breathing heavily and coughing when he reached it.

Izaya stared at the phone for a few seconds. Shizuo was waiting on the other end, but Shinra's name was bright on the screen: "connected." The press of a button, and it changed to "call ended."

The dial tone sounded like a solemn, heavy roar in Shizuo's ears.

Izaya kept walking.

* * *

><p><em>will he be happy<em>

The string was only a few inches long now, but Shizuo didn't mind anymore. Izaya would either come to see him or not, and that was fine. Shizuo set Shinra's phone down on the bedside table and stared out at the primrose, catching the warm glow of early sunset.

The thought of those crimson eyes beneath the moonlight ate him away.

Shinra closed the door behind him and made his way to the living room, where Celty was waiting on the sofa.

[How did it go?]

The doctor shook his head. "I don't know. I gave them their privacy. But it was weird." At that, Celty cocked her neck in inquiry. "They were civil. Normal."

[Maybe things will get better between them?]

He shrugged. "Who's to say? They're a strange pair, those two. All I know is, it won't be quite the same after this. After Shizuo recovers."

[How is he, then?]

"Better than ever. His fever's almost completely broken and the coughing is next to nonexistent. I'm still curious as to what it was that made him sick… But whatever. I still have some samples, so I can send them to Yagiri-san for analysis." Shinra smiled, stretching in his lab coat.

[You mean you never found out what the virus was?]

"It could have been a virus, a bacteria, a parasite, poisonous plant, _spoiled food _for all I know." His hand came to rest at his chin in speculation as he fell back on the sofa next to Celty. "Shizuo continues to be a medical phenomenon."

She turned on the television and game system, glad that Shizuo was doing alright and calling silently for a celebration. Handing him a controller and muting the television for now, she showed him the PDA.

[And Izaya?]

"I saw him hanging around outside the window yesterday. I think he's a bit at war with himself right now. You know, conflicted feelings?"

[I know them.] Celty reached over to pinch his cheek playfully. Kadota's crowd would call her a 'tsundere'. But it was one of the infinite things he loved about her. No matter how many fights they shared, no matter what obstacles came their way, Celty never failed to show him how much she truly loved the poor fool in the end.

Together.

Forever together.

* * *

><p>[We visited Heiwajima-san today!~ (*≧▽≦) ]<p>

Izaya paled at the text message from Kururi. Reaching another street corner and sniffling loudly, he typed out a reply.

[And why should I care?]

[So glad you asked— HE PROMISED WE COULD MEET YUUYUU-KUN! Ｏ( ≧∇≦)Ｏ Ｏ(≧∇≦ )Ｏ]

The informant grimaced at the sickening nickname, all caps and emoticons, and sighed. The light in front of him was telling him to go, but his feet were only planted in its direction: Shinjuku. Pedestrians passed him by without a second thought to his hesitation.

[Did he now? Were those his exact words?]

[Yupyup!~ (￣▽￣)ノ＿彡 バンバン！! Heiwajima-san is so so nice, love love!~]

[I doubt that, Kuru-chan.]

[Waaaaaah, Iza-nii is so mean! ⌒(＞。≪)イタイ Not at all like Shizu-nii~ ε-(´・｀) ﾌｰ ]

Izaya blinked rapidly, unaware of how his feet were slowly shifting themselves to the other crossing.

[SHIZU-NII?]

[If you're not careful, we'll have him adopt us!~ 仲良し(*･∀･)／ ＼(･∀･*)だよ When Iza-nii can't even remember his promises…~]

Izaya looked up, seeing that he was facing a new direction. The crosswalk light turned green. His grip on the coffee cup tightened, and, closing the phone and ending the conversation, Izaya decided to cross.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Thanks for sticking around, readers! Rabu rabu~<em>**


	38. Chapter 38

Doubt.

That's what played over in the back of his mind like a broken record. Izaya doubted not only that Shizuo wanted anything to do with him but that he himself would take this day to visit. Shizuo didn't need him, didn't _want _him. What good would it do, to waste each others' time?

A flash of an image of caramel eyes dipped in pale moonlight, and Izaya stopped dead in his tracks.

What had his expression meant, that night? It closely resembled the expression he'd worn just before sparing him after their water fight in Shinra's shower. It was nothing close to anger or lust, but if the informant could describe it at all… guilt. concern.

Doubt.

Or rather, in a way… almost a _desire _for doubt.

The remembrance of the blond's firm yet fleeting touch over his skin made Izaya shiver and keep walking. He was just a few blocks from Shinra's now, and only time would tell what Izaya might choose.

This wasn't the first time that Shizuo had changed. Izaya took a sip of his drink after a short coughing fit and thought back. When had it started? Shizuo had started to avoid him that day, after he'd met with a client and found the ex-bartender pressed flat against the wall in something akin to fear. Something had happened, whether it was something Shizuo saw, heard, felt, that made him start to avoid Izaya instead of setting out to eliminate him altogether.

He needed more information. A record of Shizuo's life and daily hobbies, his work route on that day and the days previous, any changes in his diet… maybe Shizuo had been hit a little too hard in the head with a lead pipe or shot one too many times by a local street gang. Information was his only necessity in order to keep his ground, but having this only part swept up from under him only made him feel like he was falling.

Izaya fingered the slim phone in his pocket. Should he try to call? A straightforward approach couldn't be that much of a bad thing, but only God knew if he'd be able to ask _in person_… probably not.

How to phrase "why didn't you kill me in the bathroom?"…

Before he knew it, Izaya had reached Shinra's place, sipping his coffee and holding back a cough in case the sound gave him away. The same image he'd seen day after day remained: the open window framing the closed primrose, and Shizuo's hand resting near it on the window sill. His fingers seemed thin, even from where Izaya stood below. An unknown feeling swelled in his chest, but he decided to expel it as a sigh and turned back to the street on his way home.

The sound of shattering ceramic behind him made his heart shoot up into his throat.

Izaya's heart pounded in his ears, and for a few everlasting moments he was deathly afraid to turn back. His breath hitched in his chest as finally he found the courage to look to the source of the sudden, terrifying noise.

The primrose lay weakly on the sidewalk, cushioned only by the now-fractured, jagged pieces of the pot.

With a trembling, sharp intake of breath, Izaya dared to tear his gaze up to the window, and watched just in time as the hand slipped from the edge.

His coffee cup dropped to the ground and spilled over the ground as the informant's shrinking figure raced to the nearest entrance of the apartment building.

* * *

><p>Celty was the first to hear it. They were still in the living room, ready to play the game when the Dullahan pricked up her illusive ears to the sound of the heart monitor in Shizuo's room beeping dangerously fast. She threw the controller down and dashed into the hospital room.<p>

"Celty, wait!" Shinra tripped after her, and both watched from the door as the numbers on the monitor turned red and only continued to spike higher and higher. She witnessed the sudden change from Shinra to Dr. Kishitani as if the former had never existed.

"Get the crash cart!"

Celty didn't waste time to nod and brought the crash cart from the other room. Shinra began to charge up the paddles and cursed at them for taking so long. Celty glanced at Shizuo, whose chest was heaving rapidly.

* * *

><p>The elevator would take too long, the informant had reasoned, but after the first flight of stairs, Izaya's lungs couldn't take any more torture. He clutched the banister tightly with shaking fingers and willed his heart to get more oxygen to his breath faster. The burn flared out from his chest and up into his throat, making it already difficult to breathe. Izaya panted and coughed as he fought against his body's strong desire to give up.<p>

But he clenched his teeth and pulled himself to his feet. Spots danced before his vision, the pain in his chest, head and legs taking its toll all over again.

Shizuo was not here to carry him this time.

He had to get there on his own strength.

* * *

><p>Shinra rubbed the paddles together rapidly and slammed them into designated points on Shizuo's chest. Electricity's frequency rose, and with a zap, the blond's upper body jolted upward to meet them. Shizuo's eyes were fluttering, and the beeping was only climbing. The sounds repeated as Shinra tried the defibrillators again. It produced the same result, and a small sound from somewhere in Shizuo's throat.<p>

Celty typed quickly and held the PDA out for Shizuo, steadying her hand as best she could.

[Hang on, Shizuo]

Shizuo's eyes were seeing and unseeing, observing her figure in his hazy vision and blinking away the unconscious moisture springing to his eyes. The defibrillators were once more applied, pulling his body up as if his chest were being tugged by a string, like a puppet. Each time he fell back onto the bed silently.

* * *

><p>Izaya no longer cared if he might die by the time he reached Shinra's floor. He pulled himself from the stairs and with the last of his energy raced to the doctor's door. He let himself in, thankful that the door was unlocked, and threw it open behind him. He could hear the paddles going and the heart monitor firing at a gallop, beeps joined in by other sounds of everything else failing.<p>

"Shizuo!" he called, panting harshly as he sprinted. _Just a few more feet, just a few more feet. One little step._

Izaya swung himself by the doorframe into the room to see the paddles raised in Shinra's grip, and Celty's arms pressed stiffly at her side. The truncated rise and fall of the flatline thinned out to a simple, bright line on the screen, and the shuddering rise and fall of Shizuo's chest had ceased. Izaya thought he might go deaf with the noise that drove a nail through his head as soon as he'd stepped on the threshold.

_The high-pitched sound of a dead heart._


	39. Chapter 39

Shinra's head snapped back to Shizuo, and jerked forward to try the paddles again. Celty restrained him from behind, only able to keep him still as tears began to well in his eyes and the choked breathlessness in his voice echoed through the room.

"Let me go… please, Shizuo… I can still…"

He began to relax in her grip, dropping the paddles haphazardly on the crash cart and leaning against her. They clattered against the crash cart and brushed the floor, cords going slack with gravity. She rubbed his shoulders and turned back to Izaya, who was holding himself up against the doorframe.

"out…"

The mumble caught their attention.

"…I said, get out."

Celty started to pull the doctor out of the room, and all at once Shinra was back to protesting again. The droplets flowed freely from his cheeks now, catching the dim light as they fell. The Dullahan drew him into a loving, solemn embrace and closed the door. Besides the broken sobs that passed muffled through the door, the room was quiet except for one thing; Izaya could only take so much of the hollow sound, the loud, stretched _"beeeeee"_ that would never end, and in a burst of anger he found his flickblade and stabbed the screen. The monitor short-circuited and was effectively silenced. He let the handle go quietly, leaving the knife embedded in the shattered shards of pirite.

No amount of the physical pain he'd just endured compared to the conflicting emotions that now afflicted him.

Izaya felt dizzy. This couldn't be real. Shizuo wasn't _supposed_ to die. Monsters _don't _die. They were invincible, always ready to get back on their feet at the strongest attack. They were inhuman, they were impure, and they weren't supposed to effect from one as heartless as Izaya a feeling of sickening fear.

Seeing it for himself was a whole other matter.

Shizuo's hair, slightly faded in color and roots beginning to show signs of returning to brown, laid strewn under his head in a tangled mop. A cool, damp sheen was visible on his forehead and the lower curves of his neck. Those eyes were peacefully closed.

For good.

Izaya examined the room. Besides the potted plant having dropped from the window, everything else was intact: the posters, he assumed, that had been hung up by Erika and friends, and on the bedside table a half-eaten cake, neatly cleaned of the crumbs about the plate. The TV was opposite the bed but rarely used, judging from the dust that had accumulated on the remote.

_Hadn't Shinra said that Shizuo was improving?_

_**then why...**_

Izaya pursed his lips to stifle a small whimper he hadn't known could come out of his throat. Without another single word, Izaya drew the stool to the side of the bed, taking Shizuo's hand between both of his own, and pressed a thumb to the slope of his nose in the hopes of stopping tears.


	40. Chapter 40

**sometimes I hate my own writing, weh. sorry this is late, have a double update!**

* * *

><p>Celty managed to bring Shinra back to the living room and coaxed him gently to the sofa. The doctor could barely keep himself up on his own two feet and leaned limply against her until he fell onto the cushions, his expression morose and dazed. As she sat down next to him, angling them both inward, she noticed he was physically shaking.<p>

The Dullahan was still at odds with herself. It didn't seem real, almost like it hadn't yet sunk in for her. _Shizuo is dead, Shizuo is dead,_ she kept repeating over and over in her mind. _Shizuo is dead. _No, it couldn't be. Shizuo always bounced back up, no matter how many times he'd fallen or been kicked down.

Images played like an old film. The first time she'd met the blond at Raira, with his distant, confused and vaguely annoyed mien. The first time Shizuo was 'invited' into the Kishitani apartment with a horizontal slash on his chest and a thirst for a certain informant's blood. The first time she talked to Shizuo the day he got his job with Tanaka Tom. The first time Shizuo opened up to her, and the first time she thought she'd ever seen him smile. So warm.

So cold.

[There was nothing you could have done.]

"Of course there was," Shinra choked, gripping the fabric of his pants at the knees and shaking his head. "I should have seen it coming, I should've..."

Celty could only console him by rubbing the small of his back, but then he bent forward, elbows down and head buried in his hands. Those long brown locks fell before his face like a curtain. The tears were coming faster now, and incessant, and she could hear in his voice how tightly his throat had closed.

"It all just happened so fast..."

Shinra's shoulders shuddered, and it was then that it really hit her.

_Shizuo is dead._

They would never see him again, whether it was running into him on a job or stepping between the hopeless pair during a fight, or cleaning his painless wounds or hearing his voice like washed-down honey when his eyes glazed over in reminiscence.

_Shizuo... is dead._

He would never smile at them again.

Celty could feel the burning, gelid, leaden absence. The loss left a gaping hole in the very framework of her cold, useless heart. If she could have given it to Shizuo, if only, she wouldn't have hesitated for even the slightest moment. Shinra's strangled tone took her away from her thoughts.

"He didn't..."

Celty wanted to scream; she almost did, but repressed the notion with respect for what Shinra had to say.

"He didn't even... get a chance, to... to say his last words..."

The Dullahan perked up, then typed on her PDA. With the gently nudging of her fingers against his cheek, she coerced his gaze to the screen. His dulled steel grey eyes and blotchy skin were a pathetic mess that only made her pang with sympathy.

[You didn't hear him?]

Shinra bolted up in his seat. "Did he...?"

The shadows floated up from her fingertips along the keypad.

[He said, "thank you."]

Shinra blinked at the screen for a few moments, rereading the message over and over almost uncomprehendingly. His eyes seemed to redden and well up even more, eyebrows furrowing in pain.

"Oh god, Celty..."

She held him when he wrapped his arms around her, tightening and clutching as if his very life and sanity depended upon him holding on lest he fall. His tears soaked through the clothes about her shoulder. The Dullahan's dark smoke spilled over his back to hit the floor.


	41. Chapter 41

Izaya stroked the blond's limp hand with his thumb. The skin felt so fragile, still warm. He released a shuddering breath and blinked away the awful burning sensation in his eyes. Throat dry, he licked his lips, tongue darting across them only to purse them together until the soft skin turned from pink to white.

"Really, you…"

His voice was faint, barely having escaped. Izaya gently removed the oximeter from Shizuo's index finger and let it dangle from the cord. It all suddenly seemed surreal. This was a dream, wasn't it? Of course. It had to be. Nothing was right about this, all wrong, _wrong wrong wrong wrong_

He opened his mouth again, but no sound emerged, only a small choke of air catching in his throat, where an unbearable lump was forming so tight he thought he might suffocate. Izaya swallowed.

"Well, Shizu-chan." He raised his eyes. "I'm here."

The blond's face was so peaceful and still, it was more than breathtaking. The way his head was turned toward him, Izaya could see the brown roots returning to his hair. It lay strewn beneath him, curling over the pillow and falling just above his eyes. Closed, lashes dark against pale skin and sleepless circles. Yet somehow, there was still a sort of glow about him.

Heh. Maybe death was still fresh. Could he hear him, now?

Izaya's eyes screwed shut painfully, and he hung his head, keeping his hands clutched around the blond's own. _Wrong wrong wrong wrong_… But even has he looked up, he hadn't moved.

Shizuo was dead.

"Why?"

'Why did he die?' No, that's not what he meant. He died of illness, and, if anything, a broken heart, in both senses of the word. For in his only time of need, what had he done? Izaya had done what he always did — he pushed him away and laughed until the last spark of life left in him flickered and gave out.

"Why would you want to see someone like me?"

_I'm a worthless piece of shit. I'm the flea you've called me for years, I'm nothing, for what I did to you. What in the hell gave me the right to kill you? _Yes, that was it. Izaya had killed him.

"Why _me?_"

Izaya had taken the offered-up heart, dropped it to the ground, and crushed it beneath his foot until it gave its final beat.

Words, insults, wounds— with time, they all healed. But Shizuo would never heal. It was impossible to turn back the clock, to correct his mistakes, right his wrongs, and, most importantly, start over.

What was the point now of the immortality he constantly sought?

A tear spilled over and down his cheek, and more followed. Izaya didn't even bother to wipe them away; the damage was done. His chest ached, his throat ached, and he pressed Shizuo's hand to the bridge of his nose again. He suddenly wondered if praying was still an option. As if he even believed in a God above himself… but was it possible to…? No, it was useless.

"This wasn't supposed to happen…" he choked, sobbing as his body was wracked with uncontrollable shivers. Izaya used Shizuo's hand to catch a few falling tears as his fingers clutched tighter and tighter. "You're not supposed to die, not like this…"

_wrong wrong wrong_

_Shizuo's dead_

**Shizuo's dead**

**wrong wrong wrong wrong WRONG**

"Is it silly to think like I did?" Izaya murmured. "That one day, we might try to set aside our differences… heh, like some sappy teen novel… oh who am I kidding, you hate me. So, that day, why did you avoid me? And, that night, why did you let me…?"

The worst part of it all was that Shizuo was just _lying_ there, not _moving_. No more angered expressions, though now he could trace the worry lines deep yet faint in the blond's forehead; no more uprooted city property, no more name-calling…

"Say something, anything…"

Shizuo would never say his name again.

"GODDAMMIT, _SAY SOMETHING!_" Izaya sobbed and gripped Shizuo's hand as if it were his lifeline. "You can't be gone! You can't die like this, you just can't… can't leave…"

What else was left?

"I never got to tell you…" he whispered finally. The blond's hand fell gently from his grasp, and Izaya laid it carefully on his chest. He watched, focused, never taking his eyes from Shizuo's chest — hoping, _praying _that he might catch it rise and fall once again. Even if it were just one last time.

No such luck.

Izaya leaned forward, face hovering above Shizuo's own, wondering what he could give Shizuo as a parting gift. A last chocolate, a final smoke… What else did the blond like? For he'd never bothered to ask…

So instead, Izaya pressed his lips to Shizuo's forehead and ran a hand slowly through those blond locks until the ends slipped from his fingertips.


	42. Chapter 42

**So so so sorry I haven't updated! I had spring break and that had me super busy over the past couple weeks. Love y'all~**

* * *

><p>Celty and Shinra were still embracing tightly when Izaya emerged from Shizuo's room. He kept his head down and slumped against the closed door, feeling the heavy weight of more than just exhaustion. Celty was the first to notice him, but didn't make a move to show it. Shinra's head remained on her shoulder, the shaking of sobs having faded to small trembles.<p>

"Don't look at me like that," Izaya finally muttered. He ripped his body from the door, stumbling forward and almost falling, as Shinra glanced up. The red, bloodshot eyes and blotched pink face that were the result of terrible emotions; they were too much for Izaya to handle, enough to make him want to collapse to the floor and never move again.

"I said stop looking at–"

"You should go, Izaya."

Izaya stopped cold. _What was that?_ The mere four words left him almost breathless, as if the recently departed had returned from the grave just to punch him in the stomach.

"Why should–"

"Just. go."

Celty turned back to try consoling Shinra by rubbing his back again, but he peeled himself from her unsteadily and put his glasses back on. They brought out the adult in him, though the tear stains left over on his cheeks still made him look like the freshly-bullied kid washed up on the playground. Celty's hand fell gently on his leg, and he averted his gaze to the floor.

[I'd suggest you go before he gets worse. You can come back later.]

Izaya nodded bleakly, and was about to pass over the threshold when she stopped him with another message.

[I managed to catch a little of what you said in there. Are you going to be alright?]

Izaya was petrified to the spot for a few seconds, wondering if he actually would be. Where would he go, once he left Shinra's? Would he go back to his apartment in Shinjuku, or give Shiki the most recent update? Would he return home and cry where no one was looking? Finally, he tried his very best to smile pathetically and nodded despite the sorrow weighing down his head and his heart.

"I'll be fine."

Izaya took the elevator this time.

He barely remembered the ride when he stepped out.

The outside wasn't much of a welcome sight. The sun was setting, and a gloom had set over the dusk air. He could see the faint silhouette and translucent glow of the moon behind the late afternoon clouds. As Izaya walked out, he was reminded of the coffee cup he'd dropped that he should probably…

…pick up…

He spotted the potted flower close by when he bent to retrieve the cup. The pot had shattered into large clay pieces, and the dirt was spilling out to follow the flower that lay limply on the cement, appearing dead and broken.

…It was the least he could do.

Izaya scooped up the dirt and dropped it into the empty coffee cup, ignoring the dark smudges forming on the hands he had always made sure to keep well-groomed and clean. Under any other circumstances the dirt lying beneath his fingernails would have been self-deemed unsightly, but with all that had happened up to this point, he could honestly care less. It wasn't long before the cup was half-filled; Izaya carefully placed the flower and its roots on top and surrounded the base with what was left of the spilled dirt.

_What kind of flower is this?_

It didn't bloom. It remained closed off from the world, forgotten and ignored amidst the vibrant red roses and striking purple orchids. There was little color, no life. No spark of ambition, no promise of normality.

And yet Shizuo had chosen to keep it in his time of hopelessness and need.

Izaya rose to his feet, never tearing his eyes from the flower. The mere sight of it painfully reminded him of Shizuo like a photo with burnt edges and a note on the back. Maybe this flower had a story to tell. Maybe this flower had held onto Shizuo's soul in his last few breaths. Maybe, just maybe, Shizuo wanted him to keep it.

He could delude himself with that notion, right?

It took a few tears sinking into the soil to notice he'd started to cry again. Hands both dirty and occupied, Izaya let them flow, and he moved the coffee cup out of the way of tears now dotting the ground. A tiny whimper escaping his throat, he hugged the flower tightly to his chest and felt himself clutch tighter with every nail driven into his heart.

"Hey."

Izaya swore he might have died himself, then and there; it had only been a whisper, but a loud whisper. Terrified to raise his gaze to the source of the sound, his mind raced for other options. It must have come from wind in the trees, or a car down the road, surely.

For seeing Shizuo standing at the window could not have been possible.

He was still adorned with the thin hospital gown, but his skin glowed in the sliver of sunset that remained. Izaya blinked, wondering if he could see ghosts now. But the blond's eyes softened as he raised a hand weakly and waved.

Izaya swallowed his tears in anger.

"What the hell do you mean, just 'hey'?" he shouted up to the window. He felt like an ant on the sidewalk.

Shizuo's shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. "Guess there's nothing else to say."

"Then what did you want to say to me earlier? Why did you want me to visit?"

He took a deep breath, and it made Izaya realize that he probably was still feeling fatigued from all the treatments and drugs that Shinra had put him under. Yet his eyes still swam with a golden brown Izaya had not known he'd missed so dearly.

"You were the only one who hadn't come to see me."

Tears were welling up in Izaya's eyes again. "But why _me?_ You _hate_ me–"

"What is it that you never got to tell me?"

The coffee cup nearly slipped from his fingers. So he'd heard? _How?_ In fact, how was he alive? Of course, Izaya had heard of surgeries that stopped the heart for a few seconds, but Shizuo had only received the paddles and an empty flatline on the heart monitor.

"Shizuo…"

"Well?"

Izaya bit his lower lip in embarrassment.

"…Thank you."

Shizuo blinked. "Thank you for what?"

"Well…" He twisted his foot on the concrete. "Thank you for carrying me. That day, when I was sick. And I'm sorry, too, for treating you the way I have ever since, because… I never got to pay you back."

"We're even."

"Pff… what did I do that was in any way remotely equal–"

"You saved my life, Izaya." A short laugh fell from his lips. "I don't quite understand it myself, but you did."

Struck with confusion, it only grew as Izaya watched Shizuo's smile start to fade, his eyes flitted elsewhere. Izaya's own traveled down to the pure white flower that seemed to have expanded. He almost dropped it from fright.

"What is it doing?"

As the horizon cut off the final curve of the setting sun, the flower burst open and bloomed, revealing large soft petals and a bright pastel center. Izaya stared in wonder, and the last of the evening light went out. The two were shrouded in dusk, and in a small panic Izaya looked around and immediately found Shizuo's eyes.

And his smile.

_Evening primrose._

He was smiling. _At him_. It was mystifying how much a simple smile could say in utter silence.

The gap in his chest was filling, heart swelling, spirit ready to soar. So many things he wanted to do right now, but Izaya was never one to be truthfully expressive. Shizuo was smiling at him, and there was no going back, no returning to their parkour fights in the streets or exchanged insults.

Izaya merely smiled back.

Shizuo's chuckle nearly made him gasp.

"So are you coming up or not? We should stop Shinra from calling all my friends and family while I'm still alive."

* * *

><p><strong>I know some people kinda moaned and groaned over this turn of events, and I know it's so cliché orz. Requester wanted a happy ending xD<strong>

**www[dot]youtube[dot]com[slash]watch?v=r6oAUkT4iSQ**

**Evening primrose blooming - WATCH IT. SO COOL.**


	43. Chapter 43

Suddenly swelling with new vigor, Izaya was able to run up to Shinra's without barely breaking a sweat. A wide smile was plastered to his face that he hadn't realized he was wearing until his mouth muscles began to hurt. He tucked the plant under one arm and cupped the flower with the other, close to his body.

_shizuo is alive shizuo is alive shizuo is alive_

Izaya almost stopped himself. Why should he be glad Shizuo was going to live after all? Didn't he… hate him? Why hadn't he been jumping for joy the second the flatline's hollow sound reached his ears?

Though it didn't seem possible, Izaya's grin widened further. Something had changed between them. Something had changed, and he couldn't imagine it was something he'd later come to regret. But how exactly had he saved Shizuo's life?

He burst into the apartment with a loud presence.

"Shinra! Shizuo is–"

"We know."

Izaya was met with the doctor's gentle smile. Shizuo was just now emerging from his room, buttoning up a long-forgotten dress shirt over black slacks. His eyes flitted to the informant's for a brief moment, then averted to the side with… was that a hint of embarrassment_?_

But his pride dropped a little. Someone else had received his important information before _him?_ The mastermind genius sole-capable informant, coming in _second? _It was an outrage that turned out to be doubly true judging by the man clad in white who sat calmly on the couch.

"What is this about?" he said pointedly at Shiki between pants. The toll of running up stairs was now catching up to him.

"You seem to be feeling better. Sit down."

"What is this about?" Izaya repeated, this time to Shinra. The doctor merely shrugged, trying to hide tearstained cheeks, and took Celty around to a pair of chairs.

"Shiki's going to explain everything. I haven't heard what he's had to say yet, so the sooner you sit down the sooner we get this thing cleared up."

Izaya nodded slowly, then found a seat on the smaller sofa opposite Shiki. Shizuo had finished getting dressed and took a seat beside him, yet far enough that boundaries were still wary. Neither could bring himself to shift away, though Izaya did find something to distract his attention; he counted the lines on Shiki's forehead until his gaze accidentally lowered to the Awakusu's glare. He looked away quickly, meeting Shizuo again.

What's that smug smile for?

"Shiki-san, if you will," Shinra said, motioning for him to begin.

The older man sat his elbows on his knees and interlaced his fingers. "I'll begin by saying it's almost a relief to have you back in the world of the living, Heiwajima-san."

Shizuo blinked in surprise. "Uh. Thanks."

"But it's in fact by no divine miracle that you are still alive."

Before anyone could ask what the boss meant by what he said, Shiki reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small vial for all to see. It was a plain clear liquid, though slightly cloudy, but thin. He turned it around between his fingers in light amusement, then tossed it to Izaya.

"Is this the drug you hired me to find?"

"Someone came out and contacted us without warning, spilling all the information we needed, and now he is exempt from any punishment we may or may not inflict on these criminals. There's no medical name for that drug yet, but right now the street name is 'Liquid Resurrection'."

Shinra reached out, and Izaya tossed the vial across the room. "What does it do?"

"Just like its name. I have to warn you, it's only a prototype, the only thing to fix being the amount of time for it to take effect. But the drug is designed to stop a person's heart for several minutes."

"I didn't even know that was possible," Shizuo whispered. "So you're saying, I actually _did _die. For a few minutes."

Shiki nodded. "That's right."

"It's very possible," Shinra interjected, "and common in certain types of surgery."

"Apparently, the side effects, which are also being corrected, include dizziness, coughing, headache, fever, and hallucinations."

Shizuo felt the sudden urge to laugh at the last item on the list.

"What's their motive behind this, 'Liquid Resurrection'?" Izaya had to ask, ignoring the suppressed 'snrk' sound that came from the seat next to him.

"Evidently they were trying to create a… 'healthier' alternative to necessary suicide. Instead of swallowing a cyanide pill, someone could take the drug, become mistaken for dead, and disposed of, only for them to wake up within minutes. The plan, of course, is flawed, as was their handling. They've failed to be careful about how they hold onto the samples and, well, small amounts got out."

[And I'm guessing you're saying that this is what happened to Shizuo.]

"Precisely." He stood slowly. "I'm also coming to let Orihara know he's off the job, though he'll still be getting half-pay."

"Awww, Shiki-san's too kind."

Shiki left only moments after, having to take care of several things at Awakusu. As Celty closed the door behind him, Izaya and Shizuo simultaneously slumped in relief. Shinra gave them a cock of his eyebrow and rubbed his eyes dry.

"As amazing as this all has been, I want my apartment back."

Izaya gave a short laugh. "You want this moron to go home on his own?"

"I wasn't suggesting that."

"…Oh." Izaya crossed his arms. "_Oh. _Well."

[Shizuo, I can call ahead and arrange for your apartment to-]

"Uh, you don't have to," Izaya said in a failed attempt to hide his awkward tone. "I'll take him to Shinjuku with me. By now his apartment's in no condition for him to return now."

"Are you sure?" Shizuo inquired, sitting up. "You really don't have to…"

Ignoring the strange looks the other pair were giving them, Izaya gave him a smile: the same sad, relieved and jovial smile that the blond had seen from the window. He turned the flower-filled coffee cup in his hands. "No. I want to."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for your patience~<strong>


	44. Chapter 44

The way to Izaya's apartment was awkward, to say the least.

After giving his last long hugs to Shinra and Celty, Shizuo finally followed the informant outside. His legs were still a little shaky after a few weeks of barely having used them, and they ached with neglect. He wouldn't give up, however, and insisted on taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

"Okay," Shizuo breathed as they met the cool evening breeze outside. He inhaled deeply, taking in the ironically clean, fresh Ikebukuro air. "Now what? I dunno where your place is or if it's close enough to walk to..."

Izaya chuckled and gripped the coffee cup tightly in the crook of his arm, flower bouncing with his laughter. "I see Shizu-chan's not quite accustomed to the darkness." He gestured with his free hand to the sleek black cab parked before them, midnight shade blending in with their surroundings. Shizuo blinked, absolutely sure that it hadn't been there before. The driver hopped out and opened the door for them.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

_Not really,_ Shizuo thought, but went in first anyway, ducking down as low as he could and sliding over the seats to the other end. Izaya swung himself in with ease and the driver shut the door after him. As Izaya relayed their destination, Shizuo started to play with a few of the buttons, causing a couple lights to turn on and off at alternating intervals.

"No, not Shinagawa — how the hell did he hear _that? — Shin. ju. ku._ …Shinjuku, yes. Shizuo, stop that."

"The driver's not complaining."

"He's being polite." Izaya slapped his hand away from another small control panel that commanded all the lights. "It won't take long to get to my apartment, so will you just _sit still_ for a _few minutes._"

Even as Shizuo stopped and Izaya finally figured out how to undo everything the blond had done, he was still restless; it had probably come from being held down and cooped up for so long that now, as they sat in uncomfortable silence, it was impossible to repress the pins-and-needles feeling in his legs that made him bounce them up and down. He needed to get up and _do_ something, even if that something meant jumping out of the car right now and going for a short walk until his legs calmed down.

"We're almost there."

"Uhuh," Shizuo muttered, nodding. Izaya rolled his eyes in sarcasm.

"Well gee, don't get _too_ excited now."

"Under every other circumstance I'd be ecstatic about finding out where you live."

"What, so you could hunt me down? I move every few months anyway."

"Should I break down a door? For old time's sake?"

"Other people live in this building."

"Nice to see you being considerate of others for a change."

"Hey, who was it who supposedly 'saved your life', huh?"

This seemed to effectively shut him up. So he hadn't forgotten. Shizuo's mouth lay open for a few seconds before, with nothing else to say, it closed shut with a click and he sat forward again. He was still mentally debating how he would go about telling Izaya everything – _if_ he decided to tell. But it was a lingering now in the back of Izaya's mind, and as an informant he would do anything in his power to get the answer he sought.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for your patience~<strong>


	45. Chapter 45

**Sorry for the long wait and the fail chapter, haha. I was at a con this past weekend so preparing + that weekend was extremely busy. Thanks for being patient with my awful updating tendencies!**

* * *

><p><em>What now?<em>

Several thoughts akin to confusion, trepidation, and curiosity washed over Shizuo as he was invited into Izaya's home. Izaya immediately made a beeline out of the living room.

"Stay there!"

Shizuo didn't bother to question why, only obeyed. He took a few deep breaths to make sure his lungs were doing alright, did his best to check his own temperature, and felt his pulse. His heartbeat was fairly quick, which he dismissed as a result of the climb up the stairs.

"You can come in now!"

His heart rate soared.

…It was the stairs, _the stairs!_

Shizuo stepped into Izaya's bedroom cautiously. The bed was modest but rather large for someone of the informant's thin frame. Izaya himself had pulled in a sofa and was setting it up at the opposite wall of the room.

"Well, here we are." Izaya straightened his back, arms akimbo. The cushions were now adorned with a random assortment of pillows and a patchwork quilt that Shizuo would never have expected him to own. "I'll take the sofa, you can take the bed."

Shizuo averted his gaze when he felt those ruby eyes search for his own in the dim light. "Can't we just…" What had he almost said? _'Can't we just sleep in the same bed, it's big enough for the two of us'? _That's not a weird thought at all.

Izaya deflated, giving him a look of disappointment. "Don't tell me you want to take the sofa, Shizu-chan. What kind of wonderfully accommodating host would I be if I let you do that?"

Shizuo was never that great at getting out of a situation; in fact, he realized that his usual tactic was violence, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt Izaya — as ironic as that sounded now. So instead, he took to the only other hallway in the apartment.

"I need to take a shower."

Izaya blinked. "Uh. Okay. Towels are kept under the sink."

* * *

><p>The shower turned out to be much more of a relief than he'd expected, not just mentally but physically as well. Two week's worth of sweat, dirt, and just plain <em>smell <em>were swept away into the drain below. Shizuo felt a little nervous about using Izaya's bar of soap but found a liquid dispenser that worked just as well.

Shizuo washed his hair three times because of the shampoo's Oatmeal Cookie scent. It was absolute heaven. After about twenty minutes in the shower, he found himself drawing hearts, stars, and textbook kanji in the foggy glass.

_Click._

"Izaya?"

No response. Behind the frosted glass of the shower door, the blond could make out a small shadow that seemed to freeze. That hadn't been there before, had it? Shizuo turned the water off, shook himself of stray droplets, and opened the shower door.

"…Izaya…?"

"Ah!" There was a small series of clatters and the pitter patter of bare feet against the tile as Izaya stumbled in surprise at seeing the blond in all his wet and naked glory. His face glowed a deep shade of red as he sputtered for words. "Just… uh, just getting… something… Didn't expect you out yet, how was everything?"

"Fine..."

With that, Izaya nodded shakily and dashed, the door snapping shut behind him.

Izaya had initially gone in to grab Shizuo's clothes so they could be washed, but that plan had gone to hell. And he couldn't have grabbed his clothes once Shizuo opened the door — oh so carelessly — without looking like some sort of pervert, and with chagrin making his heart pound in his ears and shaking his nerves, he jumped ship as fast as he could.

Now, as he waited for Shizuo to emerge from the bathroom, he sat on the sofa's armrest. Should he turn on the television? No, Shizuo must have had more than enough. Maybe open a window, find a pack of cigarettes for him? …Shinra would kill him, surely. It was only when he stopped in his tracks did he realize he'd gotten up and started to pace back and forth across the room.

"Hey, uh…"

Izaya theatrically covered his eyes, then peeked through his fingers with a showy grin. At last, a towel was wrapped around the blond's waist, though it hugged his hips slightly higher than to his liking… _lower! Lower_ than to his liking! _'__What is wrong with me?'_

"Yeah?"

Shizuo rubbed his hair, releasing a few droplets of water that began to run down his forearm in smooth veins. He wouldn't look Izaya in the eye, instead turning his attention to placing his pile of clothes on the bed. "I didn't really know how to turn the shower off all the way, so…"

"Ah, it's okay. Nothing doing."

Izaya spun on his heel the second Shizuo's hand encroached the waist of his towel to get changed. The pattern of this quilt was so lovely and he could just stare at it all day…

"C'mon, we're both guys, it's not like you haven't…" His tone of mild annoyance trailed off into self-conscious that could only be described as a stutter for coherent words.

When Izaya finally turned around, Shizuo was wearing only his dress pants.

"What?" Shizuo seemed be trying on his poker face, though his embarrassment and awkwardness still showed. "I'm not going to sleep in the rest of my uniform."

"Don't, I'll lend you some clothes–"

"They wouldn't fit me."

"Ha, but it would be funny seeing Shizu-chan try them on anyway, ne?"

"Hrm. What time is it?"

"Ten or so. Why don't you get settled in, I'll… take a shower too."

Shizuo opened his mouth as if to speak, but shut it and started to fold his shirt and vest. "Okay."

Neither knew why he felt so disappointed when the conversation ended at that.


	46. Chapter 46

**I am SO SORRY, this is looong overdue! For the past however-long-it's-been I've been moving into college and adjusting to my new home for the next four years! You guys get a much longer update to reward y'all for being so patient with me ;w;**

**This part is actually a complete rewrite from what was originally posted on LJ. I was very unhappy with what I wrote before, and I'm still not really that satisfied but what's here is much better than what I had. Apologies, and hope you enjoy! *kissus***

* * *

><p>Shizuo flopped onto the bed as soon as Izaya left. Who knew being healthy again could turn out to be so exhausting? He peeled away the bed covers and laid himself down without pulling them back over, letting the cold dry him off, and folded his arms under his head.<p>

Something was up with Izaya, but Shizuo couldn't quite put his finger on it, though Izaya seemed to have gotten over whatever cold or flu he'd had. But he'd seemed jumpy and almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to suddenly coming to good terms with the one person he used to hate most, or that he had gone for a few terrifying moments with the notion he was dead.

Speaking of which, Shizuo still had to tell him about that.

_What had happened?_

…Maybe Izaya wasn't used to having guests.

Yes, that was probably it. Who knew if Izaya had any real social skills, or if he'd ever had any experience inviting someone into his home, especially– wait, what if Izaya was scared of him? Was it possible that he thought, with Shizuo's regained strength, he might actually attack him?

No, Shizuo knew he wouldn't, not after all they'd been through. But Izaya must've thought it true. He decided, then and there, that he'd stay awake, waiting until Izaya got out, to clear everything up.

He waited…

and waited…

and grew restless…

…and lost his patience…

Izaya was so distracted that he almost walked into the shower stall with his clothes on. Letting them fall to the floor in a heap, he stepped in carefully, until something washed over him that almost made him stagger–

…oatmeal cookies?

_How much had the brute used?_

Once the water began to run down his back, Izaya put his hot forehead to the cool tile, making him hiss at the contrast. Why the hell had he offered to bring him home? Stupid stupid stupid… And now he had to face all the constant reminders that, once upon a time, they'd slept together. _Consensually._ (Well, maybe not totally on Shizuo's part, but no one was tied up or screaming.) It didn't help that Shizuo's "death" had completely torn down all the walls he'd so carefully built around himself; his vulnerability now reduced him to a stuttering mess, like a teenage girl meeting Hanejima Yuuhei in person.

He still couldn't believe how toned Shizuo had remained even after all those days being bedri– _stop that._

Izaya washed his hair with what was left of the oatmeal cookie shampoo, and was starting to rinse it out when he heard a noise outside the bathroom door.

"Shizuo? …Is that you?"

Izaya barely had time to collect himself before Shizuo burst into the bathroom and pinned him roughly to the wall with his hands cupping his face. Protests died on lips that were now melding with Shizuo's, and it wasn't long before they were both kissing frantically enough for Izaya to shiver against the cool tiles and grasp onto his neck as if to cling for dear life. His fingers soon found Shizuo's hair, and he grabbed and tugged, coming away with nothing and constantly going back for more.

Shizuo began to move against Izaya as those large hands, calloused yet smooth, roamed his body up the shoulders and down his sides. Izaya moaned into the other's lips and raised a leg to drag up the back of Shizuo's calf as slowly as he possibly could. He melted in Shizuo's grip, however, when the blond's tongue found the roof of Izaya's mouth. Gripping tightly onto Shizuo's arms, he tilted his head away.

"Sh-shit… hah…"

Izaya had a faint notion that Shizuo was acting entirely on instinct without experience, but his instincts were _damn good. _Shizuo attacked his neck first, nipping and sucking at Izaya's throat before gliding off to the side to kiss the junction between collar and neck. It was when he reached the informant's ear that Izaya turned to putty in his hands. Shizuo's lips and the tip of his tongue traced the outer shell and dipped inside teasingly, and at that Izaya's mouth dropped open in a low moan, brows knit together in pleasure, as Shizuo caressed the small of his back with one hand and raced down his abdomen with the other.

He inched forward, face to face with Izaya, and placed a tiny kiss on his lips that made him hold his breath in anticipation. Shizuo placed a hand on his cheek, running his fingertips through the shorter strands of raven hair near his ear, which was still sensitive and made him tremble from head to toe.

"What is this?"

"Hm?" Shizuo seemed distracted, eyes to his lips rather than his eyes. Izaya squirmed.

"Why are you…?"

Shizuo shrugged, then succumbed to his own desires and licked Izaya's lips, which had pursed shut on reflex in resistance. "I'm helping you make up for all those times you didn't visit me."

Shizuo craned his neck to kiss him again, tongue running over teeth and tasting him through and through until they parted to catch their breath.

Words filled with a combination of wonder, awe, and rapture as if Shizuo had just realized it himself, he whispered,

"Izaya, I love you."

Vermillion eyes grew wide in an instant.

The informant moved his lips, but with nothing coherent to say, no sound came out. Finally, his face turned bright red in embarrassment and utter disbelief.

"I… I don't know… if this is the time to–"

"I don't care. I want you to know it."

"But Shizu-chan, this isn't–"

"Then what is the right time?"

"Not in the shower!"

Shizuo stared at him sincerely with big, determined chestnut brown eyes. "But you love me too, don't you?"

It felt as if those eyes held him shackled. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, no masks to find that could rid him of this situation because he knew that, deep down, he wanted it this way. _Corner me, don't let me run away, please_

Shizuo began to concede, sighing. "Knowing you, I know it's not easy for someone like you to open up–"

"-do."

"Hm?"

Izaya blinked a few times, keeping his gaze lowered just enough so that he was looking anywhere other than Shizuo's eyes. "Y-yeah. I… I do. Too," he added quickly. Saying much more would only further kill what little pride he had left. Couldn't Shizuo just _get what he meant_ instead of making him spell it out?

But suddenly Izaya looked up to see a big, goofy sort of grin on Shizuo's face. His eyes narrowed. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just kinda… makes me happy." He laughed, letting it bubble from his throat. He glowed with a quiet exuberance that Izaya had never seen before tonight.

Izaya put his forehead to Shizuo's. The grin was still plastered on that stupid face, and it would take a lot to make Izaya admit that it was a little infectious.

_Was this why he was so happy to see him alive again?_

Shizuo leaned forward, raking fingers through dark locks on the back of his head, pulling him up-

and then Izaya put his finger to Shizuo's lips.

The blond raised his eyebrows in surprise. Red eyes flickered like the flame of a candle, drawing to a gentle close as he put his forehead back onto Shizuo's. He breathed in deeply. His nose brushed against the other's.

Shizuo waited.

"I…"

Izaya's chest shuddered, voice hovering softly.

"I…"

His voice returned, slightly awkward and more of a question than anything.

"I… admire you…"

A 'snrk' sound came from the back of Shizuo's throat before he suddenly burst into laughter. Izaya frowned, waiting for him to catch his breath and for the shaking to stop.

"It's not funny…"

"But it's cute. I'll get through to you, in time. Small steps."

They spent the next few seconds just breathing, lips ghosting over one another as Izaya's words washed over him in a way that made him almost sigh happily. A chuckle bubbled up from his throat, bringing a smile with it, and he took the informant's face into his hands and kissed him gently.

"Thank you."

"What for? I know it took a bit of courage and self-humiliation on my part, but–"

"For saving me. More than once."

"But what about all the times I've hurt you, and you've hurt me?" His brows furrowed. "Our past isn't something we can just forget. We've come too far for that."

"Then don't try to forget it. Can't we accept this change and grow from what we were?" Shizuo massaged Izaya's temples with his thumbs, caressing them in soft circles. "I'm sorry, for everything. I owe you."

"You've got it all wrong," Izaya said in an almost snarky tone. "I'm the one in debt. But maybe I can consider us even, for now."

It was that edge in the raven's voice that had Shizuo nearly shuddering from how much it turned him on in ways he never knew it could. He'd missed it, the way he managed to press all his buttons— this time, for a different reason entirely.

"You're soaking," Shizuo just realized.

"Speak for yourself, idiot. Now I'm gonna have to find you fresh clothes."

"You're the one who had the shower on."

"You're the one who burst in here and put yourself under the water! The shower was on first!"

"Hmm, stretching out your clothes will be fun."

"That's it, I'm sending you home."

"You've gotta have _something_ that might fit me."

"Won't even be able to get my pants over your ass, one of my shirts will be more like a bra."

"You're exaggerating."

"Oh, my imagination is running wild..."


End file.
